


Healing

by the_bait



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:37:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_bait/pseuds/the_bait
Summary: After Harry Potter testifies on Draco and Narcissa's behalf, Draco and Harry become friends and learn how to navigate their relationship and the world around them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize in advance if you find any misspelled words in this work, or even if some things do not make sense; English is not my first language, and sometimes I struggle.  
> I hope you like it and leave me some comments!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited by the lovely @Missy_Lib93 :)

The first time Draco received an owl from Harry Potter, he was eighteen years old and was sitting, alone, on his bedroom floor at the Malfoy Manor. He was sorting through some clothes and trying not to listen to his mother cry in her own bedroom. When he opened his window to let in a brown, very tiny owl, he had no idea who would write to him, especially in a time like this, so soon after the trials.

 

_Draco,_

_I hope this letter finds you and your mother well. I would like to begin by thanking you for your letter. I testified because it was the right thing to do - and right now you’re probably rolling your eyes and calling me_ Saint _Potter, but that’s alright. I did what I felt was right and I would do it again. I owe you and your mother, you both saved my life, as well as my friends’, and I cannot express to you how much that meant to me._

_I would like to say I am sorry about your father, but you must understand why I did not testify for him; I couldn’t._

_I still have your wand, and I’d like to give it back to you. Maybe we could see each other some time. Maybe talk. I hope to hear from you soon._

_Harry Potter_

 

Draco put the letter down on his bed. _Shit._ He had sent a letter a week ago, thanking Harry and telling him that he was indebted to him, as well as his mother. He has never expected to receive a _freaking letter_ from Harry Potter telling him he was sorry for not being able to help his father. Draco knew there was no way anyone could help his father. And he hinted at something, that they should meet and _talk_.

Draco sighed, put the letter on his bedside table and decided it was best to leave it be.

 

*

 

That night, after having tried to coax his mother into eating her dinner and maybe take a bath and walk outside for a bit (she ate, but didn’t bathe nor did she leave her bedroom) Draco reread the letter. And started one of his own. He stopped and paused when he wrote 'Harry'. Was he allowed to call him _Harry?_  He _had_ called him Draco.

 

_Harry,_

_I am not sure how to even begin this letter. I am so grateful for what you have done for me and my mother, as I told you before. And I would like to apologise, for what it is worth, for everything that happened since we were eleven. I cannot pretend that the majority of fights and abuse did not come from me. They did. And I am sorry. I wish I could take it all back._

_Maybe we could see each other. I think I would like that. But mother needs me, right now. I do not think I could leave her any time soon. Maybe you could keep my wand safe for a little bit longer?_

_My mom sends her regards._

_Draco_

 

Draco sent their family owl with the letter and went to bed. It was a long time before he could fall asleep.

 

*

_Draco,_

_I thought about what you said, about everything that happened since we were eleven, and I am sorry, too. I was quick to judge you, and I was quick in thinking everything that happened was your fault - I cannot pretend that I didn’t, at one point. We were part of the same thing, even though we fought on opposite sides, but I believe we were both used as a weapon, as something disposable, something that had to be used to achieve greater things. And I absolutely_ hate _it. I hate they made us do this, turned us into weapons, they gave us no chance to grow on our own and find ourselves._

_Maybe you’re reading this and thinking how much of an idiot I am, and maybe you are right. Hermione says I can’t blame Dumbledore, that it had to be done. But I think that is bullshite._

_I am sorry about your mother, though. But I am sure she will soon recover; she is a strong woman._

_I will keep your wand. If you ever want to meet me, just tell me._

_Harry._

*

 

_Harry,_

_At one point I did believe that I was fighting for the right side, that it was the right thing to do. And now you are probably calling me an idiot - which I was._

_But now, I am lost. Living in this house that doesn’t feel like home anymore. It holds too many bad memories and too many ghosts. I wish I could talk mother into leaving. Mother keeps to herself, nowadays, it’s been hard trying to talk to her. She sleeps all day, barely eats, keeps going on about my father and how we tainted the Malfoy name, how things shouldn’t have ended the way they did. I am not positive she even knows what she is saying. I want to get help for her, but who would come to the Manor, after everything? And I don’t think she would welcome anyone’s help. Her pride keeps getting in the way._

_And I miss my wand. I have been using mother’s but it does not feel the same, the magic is different, it doesn’t respond to me and my magic the way mine does. It feels like I’m trying to tame something wild and I use it as little as possible. So, if it’s alright with you, I would like to have mine back. Name the place and time and I will be there._

_Hope you are well,_

_Draco._

 

_*_

One week later, Draco found himself in Muggle London. After lunch, Draco left the Malfoy Manor in pursuit of a little coffee shop Harry told him they should meet. He had dressed in the most Muggle way possible: dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt and a thin cardigan. The weather was surprisingly pleasant for mid-July and Draco was thinking about Hyde Park and how wonderful it would be to go there for a walk. Maybe he could persuade Potter in going there, instead.

When he got to the coffee shop and sat down, ordering tea, he realised he was feeling rather jittery: his palms were cold and sweating; he was tapping his foot up and down; and he could hear his blood rushing through his head. He had a right to be nervous. He knew Potter meant him no harm, but he was nervous about which topics to discuss. That is, if he wanted to stay and chat. He might just sit down, hand Draco his wand and leave. That would be worst, Draco thought. He was hoping to apologise in person, maybe strike a civil conversation, show him he had changed, that he was sorry and ready to make amends. But Potter might not listen to him, and he had every right not to.

Though, if that was what he wanted, he wouldn’t seem so adamant in meeting him, mentioning it in almost every letter. He was trying to take deep breaths when Potter walked in.

Draco got up and rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans. “Hello,” he said.

Potter was wearing dark charcoal jeans, similar to Draco’s, navy sneakers and a dark green shirt, with the top buttons popped open. His hair was still long, he had yet to cut it. It curled around the base of his neck and was shiny and wild. It framed his dark face, seeming to be in harmony with his round glasses. Draco decided he liked it like that.

“Hello.” Potter sat down and Draco did, as well. “I have got your wand here." He took out a dark case from his shoulder bag and rested it on the table, “Ollivander said it was perfectly safe and you should use it freely; no harm would come to you.”

Draco’s heart was still beating hard in his chest when he touched the case and slowly opened it. A sigh escaped his lips and he touched his fingers to the wood. “Thank you,” he said. Potter nodded. “You went to see Ollivander?”

Potter nodded again, but before he could answer, the waiter came to take his order (caramel macchiato and two large chocolate chip cookies). He resumed, “I went to see how he was doing and took your wand with me. It worked fine when I was using it but,” he shrugged and looked down, ”after I killed him, I wanted to be sure it was safe.” Draco couldn’t find the words to reply, so he sipped his tea.

When the waiter came with his order, Potter poured some sugar into his tea and stirred. “That’s for you,” he indicated the cookie. He took half of his and shoved it into his mouth.

“Still no manners, Potter,” Draco said, hiding a grin, but took a small bite out of his. When he looked up, Potter was smiling at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “How’s your mum?”

Draco’s mouth dropped. “She’s...I don’t know. She’s still my mother but at the same time, she seems so far away that I can’t reach her.”

Harry nodded. “She must still be processing everything, I’m sure.”

“I am, too and look at me: I am eating a chocolate chip cookie with my former enemy in _Muggle_ London! I’m processing!” Harry laughed. _Laughed_. It echoed in the small shop and he could see his eyes shining, his head thrown back.

“Malfoy, that was actually funny. Former enemy, then?”

Draco grinned and touched his neck. “Enemy might be too strong a word.”

“What were we, then?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but do you think we were enemies? You hated me that much that that’s how you described our relationship?”

“Relationship?”

Draco blushed. “You know what I mean, you git!”

Harry laughed. “Yes, I know. I don’t think you were my enemy. And I didn’t _hate_ you, exactly. You’d just get on my nerves a lot and I might have _disliked_ you a little bit in sixth year.”  

“Disliked? Potter, I nearly killed your friend, you had every right to hate me back then,” he said honestly.

“Alright,” Harry said, looking at him. “I really did hate you in sixth year. But not anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’ve never hated you. I was really jealous of you and angry you didn’t accept my friendship. And I was so prejudiced that for a long time I was mad you were friends with Granger and Weasley but chose not to befriend me.”

“Oh. Really?”

Draco nodded. “We all grew up with stories of you, you know? My father was a Death Eater but he’d still tell me all about it. I was sure we were going to be friends.”

“Then you offended my first friend _ever_ and I decided I didn’t want to be your friend.”

Draco was confused, for a second. “You mean Weasley?”

He shook his head. “No, Hagrid.”

“Hagrid?”

“When we met, when we were trying on our robes, remember? You were talking about the Hogwarts houses and Quidditch and I remember being terrified because I didn’t know what any of those things were or what they meant. I had found out I was a wizard and that my mum and dad didn’t die in a car crash but were murdered _hours ago_. And suddenly this pompous git started badmouthing the only person that had ever shown any empathy towards me. Of course I was mad at you. And then you were mean to Ron, so.”

 _What?!_ “Potter, _what the fuck?!”_

He looked up innocently. “What?”

“Wha- I don’t even know where to begin. _What the fuck._ No one told you about your parents _before_ you came into Hogwarts?!"

Harry shook his head.

“And that you were a wizard?”

He repeated the motion.

“And Hagrid was your _first friend?_ ”

Harry nodded.

“Potter, _what the fuck?!”_

“It’s Harry,” and when Draco stared at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, he shrugged.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited by the lovely @Missy_Lib93

_Draco,_

_I had a very good time, today. It’s nice to know we can talk now and be civil with each other._

_I hope we get to do this again._

_Harry._

 

_*_

 

The weeks went by. By the end of July, Draco was able to visit some shops with his mother in Muggle London and she seemed happier, less fragile. There was some colour on her cheeks and she even decided to change her hair colour and she looked, somehow, younger. Her now light brown hair was tied at the top of her head, her fringe touching her eyebrows while she laughed and batted at Draco’s hair when he pointed to an absurd looking coat and asked her to try it on.

“Are you still corresponding with Harry Potter, Draco?”

Draco nodded. “Yes. He sends me a letter every few days.”

“Hum.” His mother looked sideways at him and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Why do you ask, mother?” He led her through the streets of a very busy London. It was nearly dusk and people were rushing to get home.

“He sent me a letter today.”

“Harry?”

She raised an eyebrow at Draco using Harry’s name.

“Yes. Asking how I was feeling. Asking about your father.” Draco looked at his mother. She was looking ahead, head held high, as she walked. They didn’t talk much about his father. They went to visit him when they were allowed but he knew that what he felt towards his father - his pride and will to please - had long been gone. Harry didn’t mention Lucius Malfoy again when he wrote to Draco. He writes about Hermione and Ron, the Weasleys, the people he has to visit, funerals he attends; sometimes he gets a glimpse of what it is like to be Harry Potter.

“Did you write him back?”

“I did, before we left.”

“Alright.” He didn’t press for details.

They walked some more and Draco asked his mother if she minded they go in one of the bookstores. She didn’t. Browsing through the books, Narcissa close by, Draco thought of what had happened to the years of rivalry between himself and... _well_ , everyone around him. Since the War, he had been feeling deflated, like it was a bit painful to draw breath. Like his world had been shook upside down, not only because he _had_ been on the losing side of the war, but because he no longer knew himself, what he believed in, how he came to be whomever he was today. And since that first letter from Harry, he wondered what would have happened if Harry had tried to help him, if he had seeked help, from Dumbledore, Snape, Harry himself.

He liked to think he did not have any other choice, and they might have been very limited, but they were not non-existent. He _had_ had a choice. And he made the wrong one.

Draco and his mother left the bookstore and headed home.

 

*

 

On Harry’s birthday, Draco sent him a birthday card and a box of chocolates his mother had bought. He thought the chocolates were a tad impersonal, but he sent them anyway.

Early in the morning, Draco had received two letters from Hogwarts, which now sat on his desk, awaiting response, and one from Harry. Hogwarts was inviting him back. To finish his seventh year. Draco did not know what to do. His future prospects were not very bright, he had to admit. Once, he could have become whatever he desired, but now, _now_ , Draco didn’t even know if there was anything he could become or anything he could do that wouldn’t make people hate him and his family even more.

His mother already told him he should go back with a simple “Draco, you know there is nothing more important than education”. Draco sighed. _Education._  It felt like a cruel joke coming from his parents.

He opened Harry’s letter.

 

_Draco,_

_Thank you for my birthday card and the chocolates. I’m afraid Ron ate most of them, even though they were for me. He said to tell you they were ‘bloody amazing’. I have to agree with him._

_By now you received the news from Hogwarts. Are you going back? Hermione’s been going on and on about it, because of course she is going. Ron and I aren’t so sure._

_Hope you are well._

_Harry_

 

Draco wrote back.

Hogwarts could wait a few more days.

 

*

 

When Draco stepped on the Hogwarts platform, he could feel all eyes on him, just like it had been since his feet touched the Platform 9 ¾. He had ridden the train alone and it seemed he was taking the ride back to school alone, as well. The weather wasn’t helping his mood: the sharp wind was chilling him to the bone and his hair was sticking to his face due to the heavy rain. He was thankful when he sat at the Slytherin table and applied some drying and warming charms on himself. There was noise, so much noise. He had forgotten what it was like being back, the familiarity, a different kind of warmth. Students were coming in through the doors, some laughing, most of them trying to spell the rain away from their clothes and their faces. Draco saw Neville Longbottom entering with Luna Lovegood by his side, her long blonde hair so wet Draco thought he could see the water dripping on the floor. She didn’t seem to care.

His thoughts carried him somewhere else, Malfoy Manor, months ago. Having your own classmates made prisoners in your own house, while you stood watching, powerless, made something break inside Draco. He didn’t know Luna, or Dean, or...any of them, really. He didn’t know any of them. Just like he didn’t know the majority of the people who had died in the War, fighting for the right side. He didn’t know them, hadn’t even bothered to get to know them. He had thought himself above them and then he stood watching as they bled. On this very floor. On the grounds of his family home. So many dead, lining the floors of his home, the dinner table his parents and him used to have dinner on. _So. Many. Dead._

 

“Welcome, welcome!”

 

Minerva McGonagall’s voice boomed through the room, waking Draco out of his reverie. He looked up and noticed how _empty_ Slytherin was. He knew he’d be the only one of his class to come back but he had no idea so few from the younger classes would not be coming back. His heart broke a little more. While McGonagall carried on her speech - he could catch some words like _bravery_ and _knowledge_ and _inter-house cooperation_ \- Draco sought Gryffindor table. Harry was sitting beside Ron and Hermione, eyes focused on the Headmistress. Draco had known he would be coming back, Harry had written him and had told him. He had also told him he only caved because he was not ready to face the real world alone, and since Hermione would be coming back, Ron would as well, no point facing the world alone, he had said.

 

Hagrid led the first years through the Great Hall and the Sorting Hat had a very difficult time this year, it seemed, sorting the students. It took more time sorting them, he could see it mumbling and the students mumbling back. Few were sorted to Slytherin and none of them sat close to Draco. When it was over, and the feast began, Draco picked through the food and didn’t eat anything. He wondered how his mother was. She chose to go back to France. Her and Draco made the decision to sell Malfoy Manor and while that didn’t happen, Narcissa chose to move to their home in France. They had family there, she’d not be alone all the time, and some distance would do her good.

 

By the end of the feast, Draco was feeling so lousy he just wanted to go to his bedroom and sleep. When McGonagall rose from her seat, the Great Hall quieted down and Draco sat up straighter.

 

“Now, the night has come to an end. First through seven years, please seek your Prefects and go back to your dorms. Eighth years -" Draco, who had risen, sat down again “- Please wait for a few more minutes, I would like to speak to you.”

 

Draco watched the Great Hall emptying out. Draco was the only one at Slytherin table. Two Hufflepuffs, seven Ravenclaws and six of the Gryffindors had come back. Sixteen of them. Draco sighed. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like whatever it was Headmistress was about to tell them.

 

“Please come close, will you?”

 

The sixteen of them rose from their tables and approached the teachers' table.

“Now, welcome back! It is a real pleasure having you all back, this year.” Some of them smiled, Draco looked down. His eyes were burning, he was so tired.

 

“Since there are only sixteen of you, this year, us, teachers, have decided to put you all together in one tower.”

“ _What?!”_ Ron was leaning towards Hermione and whispered in her ear. Or _tried_ to whisper.

“Yes, yes, Mr Weasley,” said McGonagall with a playful smile on her lips, “You heard correctly. You are all of age, and since there are so few of you there is no reason to send you to your dorms. And, honestly, it is easier this way since we don’t have to add rooms to the already existing towers. Besides the fact that you all will be sharing the same tower, each of you will have your own room, now-" McGonagall had to stop talking because everyone started talking and giggling at the same time. The Headmistress was looking at them with an exasperated look. “Please calm down, children, and let me finish.”

They did.

“So, you will be following me, I will be telling you the password, and then you will find your bedroom and get a good night’s sleep because you will need it, classes start early tomorrow. Let us go, then."

 

All of them followed her out of the Great Hall and up the flights of stairs. Draco was following a little far behind when he felt a light touch on his arm.

“Hey.” Harry had left Hermione and Ron, who were now holding hands and looking sweetly at each other, at the front of the group, and was now walking by his side.

“Hey, you.”

“Sorry I didn’t answer to your last letter but I went to the Weasley’s for the week and everyone was there and I swear I haven’t slept properly since then.”

Draco shrugged. “No, that’s okay. It wasn’t important, anyway.”

“No, it was. You were telling me about France and your mother and how much better she seems, and I am really happy for her, Draco,” Harry said in a whisper, leaning in and bumping their shoulders together. Draco gave him a smile.

“She sent me a postcard from a beach she visited in the South of France, she says we all went there when I was little, but I can’t remember, obviously. She seemed happy.”

“I’ve never been to France. Will you be going there for Christmas?”

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know. We’re hoping to sell the house and then we’ll decide what to do.”

“We could do something, if you don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you don’t go to France, that is. We could - why are you looking at me weird?"

“Do something?”

“Yeah! Why not?!”

Draco smiled but didn’t answer.

 

McGonagall gave a password to a statue standing in front of an archway and it rolled back, revealing a dark, not very long passage, that gave way to a very spacious and richly coloured room. Giving them all to explore, she bid them goodnight and left.

Draco was standing by the entrance with Harry - who exclaimed a very loud “wow” - when Ron and Hermione joined them.

“Can’t believe she gave us our _own very room!_ ” Ron was looking around with wide eyes and threw his arm around Hermione.

“Honestly was not expecting that, quite a surprise, wasn’t it?” she said.

“It was, yeah. Now I won’t have to wake up in the middle of the night because _this one_ was snoring.” Harry was pointing at Ron who was still looking around and didn’t seem to have heard him. Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione covered her laugh with her hand.

Draco didn’t quite know what to do. _Do they even notice I’m here?_ And then Hermione turns to him “How is your mom, Draco?”

_Shit._

“She is… alright. She moved to France.” Hermione, Harry, and even Ron were looking at him. He cleared his throat. “We’re selling the Manor, no point in living there anymore, we figured, so…” He stopped talking. He looked down at his shoes and could feel a slight blush creeping up on his cheeks. He  _was_ trying. He promised his mother he would, and _he is._

Harry touched his shoulder and nodded his head, “I think that’s wise. I’ve never been to France but Hermione loves it.”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I do, I spent a lot of time there with my parents, it’s a really nice place, don’t you think?”

Draco shrugged. “I liked it when I was a child, I haven’t been there in a while, though.”

The three of them were nodding along with his words. Draco was _tired_. “Look, I think I’m going to go and find my room, if you don’t mind. I’m really tired.”

Draco left them and headed for the stairs, on the right side of the room. Harry, Hermione and Ron bid him goodnight and he was still playing the conversation in his head: _What the fuck?_

The rest of the School didn’t seem that eager to talk to him, to even sit _near_ him, why would the three people on the school grounds, who had the most reasons to despise him and treat him badly start suddenly talking to him, as if everything was forgotten? Draco _saw_ the pale looking scar his _goddamn aunt_ had left on Granger’s throat. It was still there. And he could still hear the screaming, every time he closed his eyes. Sometimes, he woke up, late at night, his legs caught in the sheets, his hair wet with perspiration due to his bad dreams, and he could _hear_ her, her screams, echoing through the halls of Malfoy Manor. And he could still hear Weasley, calling for her from down below.

 

Draco saw his name on a golden plaque, stuck on the last door of the corridor. Looking around, he realised that opposite his bedroom was Harry Potter’s room, and next to his was Neville Longbottom’s. _Great_. Opening the door, he stood at the entrance for a moment. It was a good bedroom, spacious, with a big desk below the window, a wardrobe and even some shelves next to the bed. Draco closed the door and undressed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you @Missy_Lib93 for the editing :)

His first week back went by in a blur. He noticed how hard his classes were now, compared to sixth year and how far behind he had fallen during last year, when he couldn’t study or focus. He still sat alone at the Slytherin table and he still sat alone in every class, except Potions. Slughorn had them paired up for the next month and Draco was to pair with Neville Longbottom. He didn’t know if it was by chance or if the teacher truly hated him. Even though Slughorn was a Slytherin, he still had fought on the right side.

Halfway through their potion, Draco had to grab Longbottom’s arm and stop him from completely ruining their potion. “ _Don’t!”_ he had said, grabbing the bottle of unicorn’s milk from Longbottom’s hand.

“Let go of me, Malfoy.” Longbottom had gone very rigid, he could see a muscle twitching in his face and his other hand was closed tight in a fist. He let go of him. “I’m sorry,” Draco said. “Just, you can’t pour that into the potion or it will solidify.” Draco looked around; half of the class was looking at him, some had even drawn their wands. He locked eyes with Weasley and Granger, sitting at the table next to theirs and looked down. He sighed.

“Here.” Draco opened the Potions’ book on the correct page and pushed it towards Longbottom. “Second paragraph, it says that, since this is an acid-based potion, you shouldn’t use anything that would neutralise it. It would ruin it.” Longbottom was staring at him. He could feel the coldness in his look, the resentment, the hatred. Draco deserved it, he knew that, but it still hurt, it still made his insides turn and his hands shake. He sat down. Longbottom grabbed the book and read throughout the rest of the class, while Draco finished their potion. When it was finished, he grabbed two phials, labelled them with both their names and gave Longbottom his own. They both handed it to Slughorn and came back to clean their tables. Most of the class was finishing up and there was sounds of conversation and jars banging against one another. Draco cleaned his side of the table and left, closing the door behind him.

The rest of the week went by without any accidents. Even though he was looking over his shoulder all the time, no attacks came, nor did the jinxes and hexes. Saturday morning he went to the Owlery to send his mother a letter and on his way down he slipped and fell on the stairs because _of course_ that was his luck.

Harry found him when he was dusting himself off.

“Oh, hello!”

Draco looked up. “Morning.”

“Were you going up to send a l - did you fall?”

Draco let out a loud breath. “Yes, on my way down. These damn stairs.”

“Oh. Are you alright?” Harry leaned in and Draco had no idea what he was trying to do. “Yeah, I’m fine, it was just a couple of stairs.”

Harry nodded. “So, you already sent your letter?”

“Yes, I did. It was to my mother’s.”

“Oh, hope she is well. How was your week?”

Draco frowned, _How was his week?_ “Well, it was fine. Yours?”

“Alright. Wasn’t expecting as much work as we’re getting though. Newts are going to kick my arse, I can feel it. Hermione’s already revising and I’m having tiny panic attacks every time I see her.” Draco smiled, _of course_ Granger was already revising. “Well, don’t stress too much. It’s been a week, I don’t think anyone but Granger is getting any studying done.”

Harry smiled. “Look, have you had breakfast yet?” Draco shook his head. “Would you mind waiting a few minutes and we’ll go down together?” _What?!_ “Sure.”

While waiting for Harry, Draco was lost in thought. Ever since that first letter, he had a feeling Harry was actually trying to reach out to him. He wasn’t sure if he was reaching out to him only or everyone who had been affected by the war. But he hadn’t seen him interact with anyone else besides his group of friends and, _well_ , Draco. Their letters were simple, even though they exchanged quite a few of them. And they _did_ meet in London. Draco had fun, and he knew Harry had as well. They talked, had tea, shared cookies. They even went on a stroll through Hyde Park. They rarely talked about anything too personal or anything too _painful_. But they did exchange letters and Harry would smile at him in the halls and nod. And Draco felt _lonely_. He had thought he’d never feel as lonely as he did sixth year, when he was fearing for his life and his parents’ lives, but now, back in this castle, with no other Slytherins his age and everyone else avoiding him and whispering when he walked by, Draco felt more alone than ever. His head was full of worries: what would come of the Malfoy name; of his poor mother, all alone in France, where he couldn’t reach her, couldn’t see, couldn’t make sure she was eating enough, and taking care of herself; and school.

Harry came back down from the Owlery and they set up to the Great Hall. They talked about Charms and Potions and the fact that, even though she was now the Headmistress, McGonagall still taught Transfiguration. It was _easy_ , somehow, talking to Harry. He didn’t pry, didn’t push him to talk any more than what he wanted to. And there was this feeling about him that he actually cared about what Draco had to say, no matter how dull or how useless. They parted ways at the Great Hall and Draco sat down to have breakfast.

 

*

 

He spent the weekend in the library. Truth was, he felt a little guilty when Harry mentioned Hermione was already revising because, even though he told Harry otherwise, he knows he should start, as well. So Saturday afternoon and the majority of Sunday, was spent pouring over books at a long table, near the back of the library. He had a view to the lake and to Hagrid’s hut and by ten o’clock he could see him and Fang, going about their day, in and out of the house.

Around four in the afternoon, a shadow loomed over him, and he looked up. Neville Longbottom stood there, in his ratty shirt and dark jeans - _jeans!_ \- looking as uncomfortable as Draco felt.

“Yes?” Draco said, “Can I help you?”

Neville, looked around, eyes wide and lips parted. Then, he pulled a chair and sat opposite Draco, hands on the table.

“Look,” he said, “I don’t like you. At all. You were the worst bully to me and my friends and you made us feel like shit for seven years. And that’s not counting the fact that you joined You-Know-Who and got that awful thing on your arm, but,” Neville took a deep breath and Draco pulled his sleeve down and rested his arm on his lap, “Hermione told me I should do this so I am. Even though I still think she’s wrong.” Neville looked at him now.

Draco was lost. “I’m sorry, but, what are you supposed to be doing?” Draco said.

A muscle twitched in his face again. _Maybe it was a nervous tick._

“As you might have noticed, I am rubbish at Potions.”

Draco snorted.

“Yeah, I think five years with Snape bullying you might have done that, but go on.”

Neville looked at him funny, like he was trying to find a jab in his words, somehow, but shook his head and went on.

“Yeah. So, I have no real basis. I mean, what you told in class made sense, and after I read the book, it was clear I was making a mistake but I hadn’t realised that I _was_ making a mistake because I don’t _understand!_ ” His cheeks were a bit red and he started moving his hands when he talked. “This is stuff I should have learned years ago, and I didn’t, either because of Snape or because I’m actually rubbish at Potions and there is nothing anyone could do to help me get better, but,” he looked sideways, at the next table, which was empty, and seemed to deflate, his anger, whatever it was that had made him blush, seemed to evaporate. “What I’m trying to say is: would you help me?”

 _What?!_ What was happening that suddenly every Gryffindor was coming to him and actually willingly talking to him? They weren’t even shouting abuse or trying to hex his balls off. _What was happening?_

Longbottom was staring at him like he was either about to bolt or throw a punch.

“You, Neville Longbottom, are asking me, _Draco Malfoy_ , to help you with _fucking Potions?”_  Draco said. Now Longbottom looked closer to throwing a chair at his face. If he wasn’t so shocked he might have laughed.

“No, I’m sorry.” Draco held his hands in front of him, like he was trying to explain he wasn’t making fun of Longbottom, or the situation. “I’m not trying to be an arse, it’s just, well, _why me?_ ”

At that, Longbottom shrugged and looked down. “You weren’t my first option, you know? But Hermione is really busy and she told me to try and talk to you, said you might help.”

_WHAT?!_

“Granger, she,” Draco cleared his throat, “she said that?”

Longbottom actually laughed at that.

“She did, I was just as surprised as you are, honestly. I figured, if anyone had any reason to hate you, it’d be her, right? You were such an arse to her, for all these years.”

Draco felt a pang in his heart. Something deep inside of him was breaking. Draco _was_ such an arse.

“I know,” he said. Longbottom was about to say something else but he stopped, and looked at him. Draco might as well start with Longbottom, if he was to start somewhere.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Longbottom. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you. There is,” Draco shook his head and swallowed, “there is nothing else I could say that would make me look better in your eyes. What I did was awful, the abuse, the bullying, the hexing, the name-calling.” Draco paused. This felt _good_. Longbottom was still staring at him. And he still looked like he was either going to bolt or punch Draco. “You don’t need to say anything, or even forgive me, Merlin knows I don’t deserve that but, well, just know that I am sorry, and I, at least, owed you an apology.”

Draco couldn’t read Longbottom’s face; it was making a weird, scrunchy face, like it had pained him to hear Draco’s words.

“Oh. Is this real, are you actually doing this? Apologizing to me?” Longbottom said.

Draco just nodded.

“Shit. I never thought I’d live to see the day.” Draco didn’t respond, just looked at the other boy.

“Shit.” Longbottom said again. “Have you apologized to anyone else beside me?”

“Harry.” Draco said simply.

“Oh. Is that why you two have been talking and not screaming or throwing hexes?”Longbottom asked. Draco shrugged. “Alright, well, thank you. For saying it.” Draco nodded.

“He’s far too good a person.”

“Harry?”

Draco nodded.

“He is.”

“I will help you, by the way, if you still want my help, that is.”

Longbottom smiled and held out his hand. Draco took it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the lovely @Missy_Lib93 for the editing :)

By the end of October, Draco and Neville had made great progress. Neville, it seemed, as long as he wasn’t being bullied, was a fast learner. Draco asked him, late September, sitting at one of the tables at the library, why he was taking Potions if he hated it so much. He looked apprehensive before he said “Because I want to be an Herbologist. It is required.” Draco nodded and they went on with their work.

Every Tuesday and Friday night, Neville and Draco were to be found at the library, Draco whispering about the theory Neville didn’t understand and fetching books so Neville could read some selected passages, so he’d understand the work a little bit better. Sometimes, they were joined by Harry, or Ron and Hermione. Harry was a quiet worker, once he started focusing on the task at hand, although he found him numerous times looking at Draco and Neville, across the table. He would smile and lower his gaze and Draco would shake his head. They talked sometimes, Harry and him. Harry had started sitting next to him in Transfiguration because there was an odd number of students and Harry realised they were both sitting alone. So, one day, he grabbed his bag and his books and sat next to Draco.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Harry shrugged and bumped his shoulder against his, “Now neither of us is alone. It’s better like this.”

Draco didn’t mind.

Hermione and Ron were actually _nice_ to him. He had apologized a few weeks after he and Neville had talked, that first time, in the library. Ron didn’t speak for several minutes and Hermione stood looking at Draco until he finished talking and then nodded. After that, things had been easier for Draco, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest, like he could breathe a little bit better and a bit of his appetite even came back.

His mother would send him letters every Sunday morning and she seemed happy, although that could be a lie, Draco couldn’t be sure. Malfoy Manor had been sold, but his mother decided not to buy another house in England. She said she didn’t see any reason to, and Draco didn’t push. He talked to her about Neville, and Ron and Hermione. She asked about Harry, one time, and Draco told her. “Harry has been perfectly pleasant, mother.” Because he had.

 

On the last Friday of October, Draco couldn’t seem to fall asleep and he could hear shouting from somewhere in the corridor. Someone was arguing. He couldn’t make out the voices, he didn’t know who would be up at this hour. Draco decided against a silencing spell and got up. Before he could open the door he heard Harry’s voice, carrying itself from what Draco supposed was his own bedroom door. ”You know I didn’t mean it like that; Ginny come back, that’s not...fuck.” Draco heard a door slamming. Harry’s. He thought Ginny and Harry had broken up long ago. They didn’t seem to be together anymore, at least. Ginny hung out with Luna and the rest of the Gryffindors a lot, but, even though Harry was close by a lot of the times, Draco had never seen them actually together. He had never seen them kiss, or even hold hands.

Opening his bedroom door, Draco peeked inside the corridor; it was empty. Grabbing his Charms book and a few pieces of paper and quills, he headed to the Common Room.

He had been working for a few minutes when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Looking up, Draco saw Harry, still fully dressed, with his wand in his hand, seemingly oblivious that Draco was sitting in one of the sofas by the fire.

“Hi,” said Draco.

Harry stopped in his tracks and looked around. When he spotted Draco, he made his way to the sofa as well.

“So,” said Draco when Harry remained silent, ”How have you been?”

Harry shrugged. He put his feet up on the coffee table and crossed his arms. Then he turned to Draco and said “Ginny broke up with me.”

 _Shit._ It was way too late for this. “I thought you two were no longer together.” That was the wrong thing to say because Harry’s ears suddenly turned red and he got up. “Was everyone aware except me? I mean, how _fucking stupid_ do I have to be to not even realize my own girlfriend lost interest months ago and I was the only one still thinking we were together?” _Pretty stupid,_ thought Draco. He didn’t say anything, though. "And you know what’s the worst?” Harry kept talking. “The worst part is that I’m not even mad we’re broken up. I’m not, it actually feels like a fucking _relief_. How shit of a person am I, really?” Harry sat down and looked Draco in the eyes. “How shitty am I that I’m not mad or even a bit upset my girlfriend broke up with me? I think I’m more upset about the fact that everybody seemed to know, except me.” Harry pointed a finger at Draco’s chest, “You could have told me, you know?”

Draco shook his head, bewildered. “I could have told you you and your girlfriend were no longer together? How was I supposed to know you thought you were?”

Harry sighed and threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know! How did you know?”

“That you weren’t together?”

Harry nodded.

“You were never together, _together_ , you know? I mean, you were close, when you were with your friends and such but,” Draco shrugged, ”you were never holding hands, or kissing. You never sat with her for breakfast or dinner, or, well, anything. I thought you had broken up over the summer.”

Harry’s eyes were wide and his mouth parted and he was slowly shaking his head, like someone had just poured a glass of cold water down his back and he was slowly shaking the feeling off of him. “Can’t fucking believe it, mate. Just. Fuck.”

Draco watched him as he closed his eyes and sank back on the sofa. Draco closed his book and put his things away. “Look, you probably had a lot of things on your mind.”

Harry looked at him, sharp eyes and condescending tone. “And, what, forgot about my girlfriend for _five months_?”

“Shit, I don’t know, you arse, I’m just trying to make you feel better about the fact that you forgot about your girlfriend for _five months_!”

Harry scoffed at that and hid his face in his hands. “Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be unloading all this shite on you.”

“No, it’s fine. Between your love life disasters and my Transfigurations homework, I think yours is easier to handle.”

Harry smiled. They sat there, neither of them talking, for a while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if there is something you'd like to see or thoughts you have on this fic so far. Thank you!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post another chaper today. Hope you guys like it and give me some feedback! <3

The first Hogsmead weekend came in the early November. Even though they were of age, and could go in and out whenever they wanted - “Within sensible reason, of course”, said Professor McGonagall - they chose to go when the rest of the school did. Draco was sitting on the sofa by the fire, again, when Harry plopped down next to him.

“Are you coming?” he said.

“Where?”

“Hogsmead.”

Draco shook his head. “No, I’m staying here, try to finish the Potions’ essay.”

Harry smirked. “Nah, come on. Come with us, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.”

Harry sighed. “Whatever you think they think of you, stop. Alright? If they weren’t okay with you coming I would not have asked.”

Draco looked at him sideways, and then up, at the group by the door, probably waiting for him to say something. The group consisted of only Gryffindors: Neville, Seamus, Dean, Hermione and Ronald.

“It’s just us?” Draco asked.

“And Luna and Ginny. They’ll meet us in Hogsmead.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry. “Ginny? You’re still talking?”

“Yeah. I mean, no point staying mad at her. It’s not her fault. And we were really good as just friends, you know? And it’d be weird if we didn’t, I’m at their place all the time.”

Draco nodded. That seemed very sensible. He thought Harry would hold a grudge, somehow, but he was starting to learn that he didn’t know Harry at all, when they were young. Harry Potter was nothing like what he thought he was. Draco had been wrong about a lot of things, Harry Potter seemed to be just one of the things Draco had been wrong about. When he was little, he wanted nothing but to be friends with Harry Potter; he was sure they were meant to be, so, when Harry rejected his hand first year, Draco had been _mad_. But now, looking back, Draco understood why Harry had done that. He _had_  been an arse. He deserved it. Now, eight years later, Harry was talking to him about girl problems - it was just Ginny, but it was a girl problem - and had even started sitting with him at breaks, and in the Common Room. He was _nice_ , in a way people hadn’t been towards him in a very long time. He had to admit he didn’t have any friends. Pansy, Goyle, Zabini, they had decided it was best for them and their families if they didn’t have any contact. They told him so right after the war, and they didnt change their opinions even after the trials, when both him and his mother had been cleared of all charges, and Harry had even testified for them. He had been mad. He had cursed and cried. Draco Malfoy, stripped off of everything, even his friends.

But now, Harry Potter was looking at him, expecting an answer, and Hermione and Ron were holding hands and Ron had his hand in Hermione’s face and he was, well, not happy, exactly, but he felt _better_. Go figure, he actually like Hermione’s bossiness and Ron’s playful atitude. He had laughed at several of his jokes, not because he was meant to but because Ronald Weasley was actually funny. Funny and easy to be with. Hermiome had her head in the books most of the time, but she had helped him several times with his school work and she seemed to be the only one relating to Draco’s pain towards Newts.

Draco let out a breath. “Alright. I will go with you.” Harry smiled at him and gave the group behind them the thumbs up. Draco shook his head. “I’ll just grab my coat from my room.”

The walk from the Hogwarts castle was a long one, or so it seemed because it was so cold Draco was trying to fold in on himself to try and keep warm. Draco was walking next to the trio, while Neville and Seamus and Dean were behind him, talking about the latest Quidditch match and how the Chuddley’s were losing focus, resulting in them being the last in the league. Draco stopped listening, if he was being honest. Quidditch stopped being a priority since sixth year, and then he just lost the will to keep up with his favourite teams. Something he had told Ron, whom had been extremely upset, insisting there was “nothing that could keep me away from Quidditch, not even You-Know-Who could.” Harry told him that was true, because a few weeks after the Battle, Ron had Ginny telling him about all the matches he lost, and which players had been bought and sold to which teams. Ginny had to seek the help of her brothers, Ron was so demanding. Draco had laughed.

Harry lagged a little bit behind and bumped shoulders with Draco. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So, I have a question.”

“Just one?”

Harry gave him a pointed look and he smiled.

“Go on, then,” Draco said.

“What happened that you started wearing Muggle clothes?”

Draco looked ahead, to the path layed out in front of them, and laughed. _Laughed_. Of course, Harry would be interested in his Muggle clothes. He was wearing brown leather boots, dark jeans and a sweater. He chose to wear his heavy, black coat and a black scarf wrapped around his neck.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“No, it’s just, all the things you could have been meaning to ask me, after everything, you ask about my _Muggle clothes?_ ” Draco shook his head and Harry shrugged.

“Well, I’m curious about that. You never seemed that interested in anything Muggle related.”

Draco took a deep breath. _Where to begin?_ “I think I’ve told you how much my father influenced my upbringing.” Harry looked uncomfortable, like he wasn’t expecting Draco to mention his father, but he nodded. “Well, I have always heard him talk about how dreadful Muggle clothes were, and how disgusting their fashion sense was and how depraved some of them looked, with tiny clothes and bright coloured hair. Honestly, I never paid much attention to Muggles, we were never that much exposed to them. But his words _sank_ into me. I know it’s stupid, like I never doubted anything he told me, and for a time it was like that. But then,” Draco looked at Harry and saw him staring at him, listening, “then sixth year came.”

Draco kicked at a stone, and shoved his hands further down his coat. _Fucking_ sixth year.

“I had to go out to Muggle London quite a few times, you know? I was scared shitless the first time I did. But I couldn’t do magic outside of Hogwarts and some things I had to do myself. And it wasn’t as terrifying as father made it out to be. After the trials, mother was...well, I told you how she was. And I was taking care of her. Sometimes, by nightfall, I could get her to sleep a bit, and I would go out, to London. Muggle London.” Draco smiled. A tiny smile. “It was nice. Walking around, no one knew who I was, what I had done, who my family was. It was just _nice,_ you know? My father was no longer a presence at the Manor and mother was so out of it, I don’t think she ever noticed me going out.”

They walked a few more minutes in silence. There was people up ahead, the edges of the village visible through the snow and the trees. Draco could feel Harry looking at him, but he didn’t look back.

“So, my late night strolls could only be achieved if I started dressing like a Muggle. Which I did.” Draco glanced at Harry; he was looking ahead, a small, playful smile on his lips.

In the year they had been on the run, Harry had grown into himself. He got taller, but not taller than Draco. He had kept his hair long, and he still kept his ugly, round glasses on his face. Draco had hated them but now, looking at him, his dark skin in contrast with the white background of the snow, Draco realized Harry would look weird without them.

“Well, you look good in them.”

_What?_

“I...look good in them?” _What?_

Harry shrugged. “Yeah. Less like a villain and more...approachable.”

Draco snorted. “I didn’t look approachable?”

Harry laughed. “Fuck, no.”

“Like you did, Mr I-am-the-saviour-of-the-world-so-shut-up-and-do-what-I-say?”

Harry hit his shoulder. “I was never like that! I never even said that. _Ever!_ ”

“Ouch, you twat, that hurt!”

Harry hit him again.

*

 

They ended up separating. Luna, Neville and Ginny wandered off into the Three Broomsticks while Seamus and Dean went in the Quidditch shop, next door. Ron and Hermione disappeared after a while and Harry told Draco he was sure they were kissing behind some alley. Draco hit Harry for giving him the mental image.

After wandering around or a bit, Harry and Draco decided to get a butterbeer and warm up a bit. When they entered Three Broomsticks, neither of them could see Neville, Luna and Ginny anywhere, so they got a table at the back, far away from prying eyes. He knew Harry had chosen it because of him. When they entered, a lot of people looked at him. Some of the looks chilled him to the bone and he grabbed Harry’s arm and shook his head slightly, when he looked at Draco. Harry shook his head and lead him to the table.

Harry got up to get them beer and by the time he got back, Draco was in a foul mood. Harry noticed.

“Hey, don’t get like that.”

Draco shook his head and kept staring at his beer. Really, he should have seen this coming. He was 95% sure people weren’t coming up to greet Harry because Draco was sitting next to him. The noise of the Pub was reduced significantly and Draco was sure he had heard his name being whispered a handful of times.

He sighed into his beer.

“Harry.”

“Hum.”

“Why did you send that owl? After I thanked you for the trials, you sent me your owl back. Asked about my mother and...why?” Draco asked. That had been in July. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had been talking, being friendly, for four months and their conversations hadn’t come to blows yet.

Harry put down his beer. “I don’t know. First I thought it was the right thing to do, rebuild bridges, you know? Let go of the war. Big fucking fuck-you in Voldemort’s dead face. But, then, I don’t know, you started talking to me and we had this conversation going for a good part of the letters and it was... _nice_.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. Look, I love Hermione and Ron, I do. But after the war I felt lost, and they had each other. Well, I still feel a little bit lost. But talking to you, I was a little bit _less_ lost. We’ve known each other since we were eleven years old and for six years we hated each other. And now, you were easy to talk to. I hated you for so long and that feeling changed. I was sure, if we could talk without killing each other, if we could forge this...this sort of friendship, then maybe it was worth it. The war. What we went through. Both of us used as _fucking weapons_ by both sides, meant to destroy each other and look at us. _Look_ , Draco.”

Draco did.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. _Who would have thought_.

Draco started laughing. “Can you fucking imagine You-Know-Who’s face if he saw us?” Harry’s face lit up. And he laughed.

They finished their beers. Draco’s stomach was still in a twist. He didn’t feel safe, people were still staring. Harry asked if he wanted to go back but Draco shook his head. Hogwarts had been safe, so far. He was positive he hadn’t been attacked because of McGonagall and maybe because of Harry and the Gryffindors. But here, this was not Hogwarts. These people did not like him and when he glanced at Madam Rosmerta, he knew he deserved it.

When Harry asked him again, Draco nodded.

 

*

 

On the way back, Draco was cold again. It was lunch time, so he was hungry, too. Harry tried to make him talk, but Draco was in a mood. He was _angry_. At himself, at his parents, at _fucking Voldemort_ , who had ruined his life and ruined Harry’s and ruined so many more, more than he could count. He was disappointed, as well. For so long he carried this weight on his chest: _was he going to survive, were his parents._ And then, Harry finished him. And he could still feel that weight. Even though it had eased, he still carried it around.

When they got to the Great Hall, he veered ot the Slytherin table. He only realised something was off when people stopped talking abruptly. He looked around. Harry was following him. _To the Slytherin table. What. the. Fuck._

“What are you doing?!” he hissed.

“Getting lunch. What are you doing?” Then he passed Draco and sat himself at the Slytherin table.

“No, seriously, what are you doing? You don’t sit here.”

“I do now,” said Harry, helping himself to a spoonful of mashed potatoes and peas.

“No, I mean, Gryffindors. They don’t sit here.”

“They do now.” _What?!_

“Are you trying to make them hate me even more?”

Harry stopped at that.

“Hate you?”

“ _Yes!”_

Harry looked around, like he was realizing _everyone_ in the Great Hall was looking at them, even the teachers. Although Professor McGonagall had a fond expression on her face and he could have sworn she winked at him. _How is this my life?_

Harry bumped his shoulder. “They will get over it. Eat your peas.” And then proceeded to fill Draco’s plate with mashed potatos, peas, roasted chicken and salad.

Draco ate.

“Does that happen often?” asked Harry.

“What?”

Harry moved his hand around. “People staring. Saying your name.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you like Muggle London?”

“Yes. I told you that.”

“Yes but...it’s different, you telling me and me actually seeing it.”

Draco shrugged. “I can’t blame them. Not everyone thinks its _poetic_ befriending their enemies.”

Harry blinked at him and then laughed. “I didn’t use that word! _Poetic!"_

“Yes, but that’s what you meant.”

“That was not what I meant.”

Draco shrugged again.

“Hey, you arse, I did not mean it like that. I’m not sitting here talking to you because I think it’s funny or _poetic_ that we started talking, alright? I’m sitting here because you had a shit time in Hogsmead and everybody seems to be treating you like shit. So much you have to go to _Muggle_ London to unwind. It wasn’t fair what happened to us, and you were a little shit to me in the past. To me and to a lot of people here. And you did make really, awful decisions, and-”

Draco interrupted. “Is there a point there, somewhere, or are you just throwing it in my face?”

“Shut up, will you? I am making a point, shut up and listen.” Draco did. “I made them, too. The really awful decisions. I think all of us did, at one point or another. But we have to believe that’s not the part that makes us, _us._ You know?”

“No.”

“Oh, for fuck’s - Look, what I’m trying to say is, you have to make a decision, do you do what you do because you are a shitty person or do you do what you do because you are trying to be a good person?”

“A year ago I would have an answer to that, right away. Something clever that tied in with blood status and power and , I don’t know, bravery and _you must do what you were born to do_ . But, now…” Draco looked around. “Now I don’t know what I am. I thought I was doing the right thing, taking this awful thing in my arm. I thought my parents were right, because they must have been, right? They were my parents, they’re supposed to know better. But, then, well, what did they know?” Draco shook his head. So many bad memories. Everytime he closed his eyes, or he looked at a certain spot at Hogwarts, a spot he remembered having seen a body, only last May. His mother, crying, her clothes drenched in blood; dead bodies in his own _home_.

_Fuck._

“I didn’t know what to do. Sixth year I took this thing, this _monstrosity_ in my arm and I thought I was doing the right thing. While you were trying to find a way to destroy him. We were both the same age. There are things you cannot forgive, and you should not, not even you, Harry. I nearly _killed_ your best friend! I don’t know what I am without them. My parents. He is gone, locked away, and I wasn’t even upset about it, I wasn’t even mad at you that you didn’t show up at _his_ trial, you didn’t even try and get him released and I knew, I _fucking knew_ he deserved it. And maybe, if he was convicted, my mother would see how sickening his influence had been. But I don’t think she did. She just spiralled down and got depressed and what am I to do? Uh, Harry? Am I good, am I bad? Because if I had to do everything all over again I would still take this thing, and I would still swear myself to him if it meant that mother would be safe. So, who am I?” Draco took a deep breath. His eyes were stinging, he could feel a lump in his throat. _I am not crying at the Slytherin table, with Harry Potter next to me._ He had his fists clenched and he was shaking. Harry kept looking at him, hand on his fork, like he was meaning to take a bite but forgot about it, mid-process.

Draco had lost his appetite. He stood up and left.


	6. Chapter 6

By sunday afternoon, Draco had finished all his schoolwork. He was returning from the library when he bumped into someone. Draco dropped his books and staggered back.

“Sorry. Oh, hey.” It was Harry.

_ Shit.  _

“That’s alright”, said Draco, kneeling to pick up his books. 

“Look,” Draco interrupted him. “No, if you are trying to talk about yesterday, don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.” He turned from Harry and headed towards the Common Room.

“No, wait. Draco, I wanna talk.”

“And I don’t, alright? Please leave me alone.”

He didn’t.

“Come with me.” Draco looked at him sideways. “Come with you?” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I wanna talk. It’s not late, we can go down by the lake, there won’t be anyone there.” Draco shook his head again but Harry put a hand on his arm and stopped him. “There are some things I would like to tell you, alright? You don’t have to talk back or anything, just listen. Please.” Harry was looking at him. Actually  _ looking  _ at him. Draco thought, if someone were to be walking by, what would they think? Harry was standing close to him, a hand on his arm and he had his big green eyes wide open, looking at Draco. He was expecting an answer. Draco caved.

“Alright.” Harry smiled and they walked together. 

It was a very cold outside and Harry was right, there was no one aruond. It would be dark soon and the chilly wind was making them cold throught their bones. Draco noticed Harry started shaking a little bit, arms around himself, scarf held tight against his neck. The Lake had half frozen over; the tall, naked trees offered no protection against the cold.

“Perhaps you should start talking or we will both freeze to death, tonight.”

Harry took a breath and hugged his robes closer to his body. “What you said yesterday, there was some truth to it.”Harry paused. “I belive that if you had to, you would do it all over again, like you said: taking the Mark, sixth year...all of that. But, I was in that Tower the night Dumbledore died.”  _ What?  _ Draco froze.  _ What? _ How could he have been? They were alone, Draco and Dumbledore, alone in that Tower, Draco holding the wand that was meant to kill him, set his parents free, and still…

Harry continued. “I was there, Dumbledore and I got to that Tower a few minutes before you did. He was weak, I was holding him, on the way back. When we got to Hogwarts he...he made sure I couldn’t move, that you couldn’t see me. And I saw you. And I couldn’t move and I thought, jesus” his voice break, and he looked down. When he looked up again, his eyes were wet and he had his hands clenched tight, into fists. “I thought I was about to see you kill him. But you didn’t, You lowered your wand.” Draco didn’t talk. He couldn’t. He was sure no sound would come out of his mouth forever. Why was it that Harry was there, witnessing all his lowest points, when he felt the worst, the most desperate? “And you say you would do anything to protect your parents, You would do it all over again, but you didn’t tell them it was me, in Malfoy Manor. You didn’t. You looked at me and you knew it was me, didn’t you? I wondered, afterwards, if you had recognized me but, how could you not? Even if I had been alone, Hermione and Ron were there, you had to know.” Draco looked at Harry and nodded. Of course he  _ knew _ it was him. No way he couldn’t recognize him, even under that ghastly hex. HArry sighed. “You see, I think you really  _ were _ trying to protect your parents but you were also trying to do the right thing. The bad things you did, I did them too.” Draco snorted at that. “No, I did. I killed Voldemort, didn’t I?” Draco shook his head, talking for the first time. 

“No, that was different.” 

“No, it’s really not. I was willing to kill every last Death Eater if it meant stopping him. I used the Unforgivable Curses, all of them. And I meant them, Draco. I really did, otherwise they wouldn’t have worked.” He turned to the Lake, looked out into the dark forest past it. “There’s a little bit of both in us, darkness and light. For a while I though you had to choose which one to follow but,” he shrugged, “life is not black and white. Your mom, she saved my life. For you. How could I condemn that kind of love? Your mom, Draco, lied to Voldemort’s face. To protect you. And you lied to protect me.” He turned to him and gave him a lop-sided grin. “You do bad things and you do good things, but you hope, in your heart, that in the end you make the decisions for the right reasons.”

There was a lump in his throat. That night in the Tower had been one of the most difficult nights in Draco’s life. When Snape got him out of the school he had to face The Dark Lord’s wrath. He trembled, thinking about it. There were scars on his body that would never completely heal; he would feel them and carry the weight of them for the rest of his life. But knowing that someone had been there, watching, seeing him lower his wand...it made a difference somehow. It lessened the weight.

“You saved me, too.” When Harry glanced at him, Draco cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to but you did. In the Room of Requirement. We were there to take you to The Dark Lord. I should have known we wouldn’t be able to.” Draco tried to smiled but it got lost in the turmoil that was happening inside of him. “I some times still dream about the fire. That it is still burning, that it is still after me.” The next words escaped his mouth efore he could control himself. “ And some times I think you should have let me burn.”

“ _ Draco.” _

Draco felt something on his face and when he put his hand to it, he realized he was crying.  _ Great. _

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that.”

“My father is in prison, my mother is depressed, I’m in a school where everybody hates me - don’t even try to deny that, I know they haven’t been openly hateful because of you and McGonagall - and I have no idea what to do with myself and my life. It just…” Draco turned around and ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, hey” Harry grabbed his wrists, “I have some news for you, Draco Malfoy,  _ no one does _ . We were waiing fot the War for so long that we didn’t even think about what was to come afterwards. It’s alright, everyone is feeling lost,  _ everyone. _ ” He paused.” Well,” he said smirking, “probably everyone but Hermione.”

Draco laughed. 

“The point is, we are our own people, and I understand they are your parents, but you have to start looking after yourself. I think it’s time.”

 

That night, at dinner, Harry sat with Draco at the Slytherin table and everyone stared.

“Honestly, I’ll probably be hexed right after I leave this table. Even Ron and Hermione are staring.”Harry raised his head and searched for his friends, sitting at the Gryffindor table. He nodded and waved. They waved back, Hermione giving them a smile.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to worry.”

Draco wasn’t so sure. 

“Someone will get to the Daily Prophet and we’ll be front page.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m used to it, and I do not care. And you shouldn’t either.”

“No, you don’t understand”, he put his fork down, “they will say I used  _ Imperius _ or some potion, or  _ something _ !”

Harry shook his head but grabbed his arm and made Draco look at him, “I am sitting with you because I want to. We fought a fucking war. If they have a problem with me hanging with my friends, they can fuck right off. Now, eat your fucking dinner, Malfoy.”

 

*

 

The next week, Hogwarts was filled with gossip and people whispering in corners. 

“It was not like this before.”

“Before?”, asked Harry.

“Before you sat with me at dinner. And then they went and sat with me, as well”, Draco said, poiting Granger and Weasley, who were walking a litle bit ahead of them, “And it got worse since the picture.”

Harry looked at him and shrugged, “It’s just a picture.”

“You’re touching my arm.”

“Well, you were freaking out.”

It didn’t seem to bother him, but it bothered Draco. Something about the whole school talking about him, so openly. And there was a feeling, a restlessness; Draco didn’t like the looks people were giving him. At first he was being ignored and then people didn’t pay much attention if he was talking to Harry or any of the Gryffindors. But, now, there were looks, and some of them were not just curious, there was hatred behind some of them. They lingered on him, looked at him walking with Harry, and talking to the Trio and he could  _ feel  _ them. It made his skin itch, and made him want to throw hexes.

“Oi, Harry!” Ron turned around and addressed Harry. “Mum owled me. She’s asking if you’re spendind the Hols with us, mate.”

“Oh.”

Hermione stopped them and looked at Harry. “You are, aren’t you, Harry?”

Draco noticed he was uncomfortable: He looked down and touched his hair. “I don’t know. I wanted to see Teddy and the thing with Ginny…”

“I thought you two were talking.” , said Draco. He had seen them talk a few times, she had even talked to Harry in front of Draco.

“Yes, we are, we’re friends. I’m just not sure your mom understands that, I’m scared she’ll try to make us spend time together and we would both be uncomfortable.”

“I understand you wanting to spend time with Teddy, but I don’t think Molly would do that. She knows you broke up, she noticed things weren’t okay during the Summer,” said Hermione.

“She did?!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron snorted. 

“Like I told you before, Harry, I think you were the only one who didn’t notice,” Draco said. Harry hit him in the arm.

“Just think about it and then get back to me, alright?”

“Yeah, mate.”

 

*

 

“Can’t believe this. You cheated!”

Draco was on the ground, laughing, while Ron was still looking at their chess game in disbelief.

“No. No, I want a rematch!”

“Ron, he won fair and square”, said Hermione, touching his arm and smiling.

Harry was sitting behind Draco and had a goofy smile on his face. Draco smiled at him.

Hermione and Ron left a little bit later; Harry said he was sure they were sleeping in the same room.

“Well, they are dating, and we do have our own rooms. I’m sure McGonagall knew this would eventually happen.”, said Draco. He was sitting on the sofa, next to Harry.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s still scarring thinking of them shagging.”

“ _ Oh, my god! _ ”, Draco shoved Harry when he burst out laughing. “I hate you for putting that image in my head!”

Harry laughed, and laughed and laughed.

 

Later in the night, when everyone had gone off to bed, Harry and Draco were alone, curled at the oposite side of the sofa, near the fireplace, with a blanket over their legs. Their feet were touching: Draco had tried not to, but they kept bumping into each other so he just left them there. Harry didn’t seem to mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!  
> Hope you like this chapter. Leave me some comments and Kudos!  
> Love you all <3

On a wednesday night, Draco found himself in Harry’s room. They were trying to study in the Common Room but people were being unusually loud so Harry told him they could study in his room instead. 

His room was well kept, Draco was not expecting it. He had no posters on his walls, but he did have photographs. Some were moving and some were not. Draco saw that the majority of them were Ron, Hermione and Harry. One of them was the Weasleys, he could tell, all the children had red hair and Draco spotted Fred, on the far right corner, next to his twin.  _ Fred _ . There was also a picture of a couple, twirling and looking at the camera; Draco had never seen this picture before, but he knew they were Harry’s parents.

“These are your parents, arent they?” Draco pointed at the picture.

Harry set his things down on his bed and came closer. “Yeah.”

“You look like them, physically.” Draco looked at the picture again, and chuckled. “You have your father’s hair, don’t you?”

Harry’s right hand went up to the back of his hair, and he smiled. “Yeah, I do,”

Draco cleared his throat. “Do you remember them?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I was one.”

Draco noticed Harry’s fists.  _ Oh.  _ “That’s okay, you don’t need to talk. I was just -”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just. Well, it’s dumb, isn’t it? I have never met them, but I just miss them so much.” He sat on the bed. “You know I used to hear her voice, right before Voldemort killed her, in third year?”  _ What? _ Draco sat next to him. 

“How?”

“Dementors. They had this effect on me, Lupin said it was because of everthing that happened to me, the bad things. And I used to hear her.”

“Harry.”  _ When I thought I couldn’t fuck things up even more. _ ”Harry, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“I saw them, fourth year, when Voldemort came back, they came out of his wand, and they talked to me.”

“ _ Priori Incantatem _ ?” Harry nodded. His eyes had a spark to the, his hands twisting in his lap. “It was the anniversary of their deaths, last month.”

“I know, 31st.” 

“I couldn’t go see them. Last year, when we were on the run, Hermione and I were there, on Christmas Eve. It was the first time I saw their tomb.”

“Ever?” Draco said, surprised. “No one ever took you there?” Harry shook his head.

“Are you planning on going?”

“I was. I was thinking of going home for the holidays. Grimmauld Place, not the Weasley’s. I love them”, Harry said really fast, “but I feel like I haven’t had a moment’s peace since it all ended. I wanted to go see Teddy; visit my parent’s grave, maybe fix the house, a little bit. I just wanted some time.”

“Then go home, I’m sure they woul understand.”

“Perhaps. But it’s the first Christmas without Fred, I don’t know how Molly would react if I told her I was not going.”

Draco nodded. A few months in his presence, and Draco  _ knew  _ how Harry felt about the Weasleys, and how they felt about him. It was a different kind of love; but it was love nonetheless. 

Harry flopped back down on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I wish things were easier. I thought if I survived, if I could actually defeat him, I would be okay. I would marry Ginny and we would have kids, I would be an Auror, everything would be perfect.”

“Things don’t always turn out the way we plan them. Trust me, I would know. But sometimes, that’s not always bad.”

Harry looked at him. “How so?”

“I hated you. Well, I  _ thought  _ I did. And look at us now.”

Harry smiled, an easy smile, Draco thought he had only seen a handful of times. He was starting to notice Harry had different smiles that represented different things.

“Yeah, but we did get through a lot before we came to this.”

“I am sorry about that. That was mostly my fault.”

“You already apologized, I did, as well, let’s not do that again.”

Draco nodded. Neither of them got up from the bed to pick up their things. 

“How are your parents, Draco?

_ My parents _ . “Mother is in France, still. I don’t think she is coming back.”

“To England?”

Draco nodded. “Yes. I’m hoping to go there for the Holiday. Already talked to McGonagall to see if she would allow me to Floo there. It would be easier.”

“I’m sure she will.”

“Yes.”

Harry sat up, back against the headboard. “And your father?”

“My father, he - “His voice shook. “I saw him before I came back to Hogwarts. He hasn’t changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s still -,“ he took a deep breath, “he’s still talking about the Dark Lord. Like we did him wrong, like we abandoned him. Like it was our fault he failed. He’s still talking about blood purity and how we should have laws protecting people like him - laws to protect Death Eaters. I’m not sure he understands these laws would be protecting murderers and rapists.” He could feel himslf getting hotter, a blush creeping to his face. He hadn’t talked to his mother about this, how derranged his father had seemed, even more then when he was put away. He had thought that, after everything, Lucius Malfoy would realize what he had done, what had happened to their family. “The things I have seen, Harry, I don’t know  _ how _ he keeps talking like that.”

“Draco”, Harry’s voice was low, like he was whispering, even though they were the only ones in the room, “how was it like? How did you stand it?”

He kicked off his shoes, like Harry had done when he entered the room, and planted his feet on the bed, hugging his legs. How could he explain to Harry what had been the worst moments of his life? The despair, the cruelty, the  _ blood,  _ the  _ smell _ , the constant fear, the constant desire for it all to end.

“It”, he paused. “It was nearly unbearable. He had a way to make me feel... _ dirty _ .” He shivered. “That night, when I tried to kill Dumbledore, Snape took me back to Malfoy Manor. I had to see him, explain to him what had happened, that I had failed, even though Snape managed to kill him.” He looked into Harry’s eyes, he looked at Harry, who had changed so much in his own eyes, in such a short period of time. Now that all his friends had abandoned him, his mother and his father left him to battle for himself,  _ again _ , this boy, whom he had hated so much, whom he had meant to hurt and destroy, was sitting, alone, in his own room, reaching out  _ to  _ Draco. He felt a pang in his chest, a feeling welling up inside of him. Who else would understand what it felt like living and dealing with the Dark Lord? He pushed himself to speak, to tell  _ someone _ .

“I thought I would die from the injuries. The pain, it was”, he shook his head and closed his eyes, “I don’t know how to describe it, Harry. It was worse than  _ Crucio _ , I don’t know what he used on me. But he was so  _ angry _ . His plan had worked but I had failed. Later my mom was helping me and she kept crying, saying how it was unfair because Dumbledore was dead but” he opened his eyes and looked at Harry,”how could she be talking about fairness when he ordered her 16 year old son to murder another person when  _ he knew _ I would fail? My mother, holding her bleeding son, and she still wouldn’t  _ fucking see! _ And then he invited himself to our home. My  _ home,  _ Harry. I should feel safe in my home but he tainted it, he spilled blood and killed people and did so many horrible things I still wake up most nights, terrified I’m back in that house, waking up to someone’s screams.”

Harry reached out and touched his arm. A small gesture that gave him strength to keep going.

“When I saw you in the living room, with Ron and Hermione, I knew. It was you. And you gave me something I thought I had lost a long time ago. I thought, if I could keep Bellatrix from calling him, if I could keep you safe for long enough so that you could escape, maybe,  _ maybe _ , it’d all be alright. I  _ hoped _ . That night we were all punished. But you  _ had  _ escaped.”

They were silent for a very long time, after that. Draco moved up the bed and was shoulder to shoulder with Harry. Harry seemed to be deep in thought; he was frowning, a deep crease in his forehead. Draco could hear noise from outside; people were probably turning in for the night. Draco was thinking about getting up and leaving when Harry spoke.

“Voldemort and I had a connection. When he tried to kill me, when I was a baby, when he killed my parents, a part of himself broke and lodged itself inside of me.” Harry was twisting his hands in his lap and curling them into fists. Draco was at a loss for words. “It gave me the ability to talk to snakes and at times I could see what he was seeing. And what he was doing.”He paused, took a deep breath and looked at Draco. “I saw you, once.”  _ What? _ “He was making you hurt someone. I do not no who. But I saw you.”

“You saw me.” His voice was but a whisper. There were so many things he regretted, so many things he had been made do that turned his stomach and made him hate himself. 

“Draco, that day, in the bathroom - “ Draco was shaking his head, but Harry didn’t give him a chance to speak. “- no, let me tell you. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I didn’t know what that spell did, I was irresponsible and acted without thinking. You were in pain, I knew, I saw you struggle throughout the year and instead of offering my help, like Dumbledore and Snape did, I cursed at you, I - “his voice broke, “ - I nearly killed you.”

“You did. I hated you a long time for that, afterwards. But when it hit me, moments before I passed out, I was thankful, as well.”

“Thankful?”

Draco nodded. “I was. I thought it was over. Whatever happened next was not on me and I would not be around to witness it. In a way, it was liberating.”

Harry was gaping at him. “That’s…” He was struggling to find his words. It was probably something along the line of  _ awful _ , or  _ you shouldn’t say things like that _ . It was the truth, though, Draco thought. 

Harry, suddenly, grabbed his arm and turned sideways to look at him. “You’ve told something similar, a while back, how you sometimes wished I didn’t pull you out of that fire.” Draco kept quiet. “Do you think about that a lot?”

“About dying, you mean?”

Harry winced.

“I do, sometimes.”

Harry’s grip on him tightened but he didn’t say anything.

“I should go back to my room.”

“I think you should stay.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco woke up abruptly. There was someone next to him; he could feel someone thrashing, hands hit him, and then crying. His heart was beating so hard in his chest he thought he could hear it. It took him a moment to realize why there was someone next to him and that that person was Harry Potter. He turned, he could see a faint outline of Harry’s face and body. His hands were in fists, eyes scrunched close, and he was crying. He was  _ dreaming.  _

Draco thought about letting him sleep but he looked in pain; Draco didn’t think that was a pleasant dream. He was mouthing something, sounds leaving his lips, but he couldn’t make out the words.

“ _ Harry. _ ”

Nothing.

“Harry!”, he said louder.

Still nothing. Without his glasses, Harry loooked different, more innocent somehow, younger. But there were a wet track on his cheeks, and Harry was starting to sob.

_ Shit. _

Draco touched his shoulders and shook him awake.

“Harry!”, he screamed. 

His eyes opened suddenly; his body relaxed visibly when he recognized Draco and then he sighed and dropped his head on his pillow, closing his eyes again. 

“I’m sorry”, said Harry.

Draco shook his head. “Oh, shush, you git, you just scared me. Bad dream?”

Harry swallowed and nodded. He dropped his hand on his forehead and was massaging it.

“Do you need anything?”

“No. After a nightmare, I feel drained but can’t seem to fall asleep.”

Draco could relate.

“I should go bak to my room.”

“Do you want to?” Harry was sitting up on the bed, hands reaching for a glass of water he kept on the nightstand, but looking at him.

Draco didn’t.

“You might sleep better if I’m not here.”

Harry gave him a sad smile. “I would really not.”

Draco nodded and reached his hand towards Harry and he took it. With their heads on their pillows, hands clasping around one another, the light from the moon coming in through the window, Draco thought back to the first time he received a letter from Harry. He had felt so disconnected from the world, trying to balance his life and his mother’s and the loss of his father to Azkaban. And now, lying on the same bed with Harry Potter, touching his fingers to the back of his hand, watching as he tried to control his breathing and tried to relax again so he could get some sleep, Draco was proud he had found enough strength in him to write back to Harry, and keep writing and talking to him. It would have been easier to let go, to ignore the letter, to go to France with his mother, not come back to Hogwarts. But he didn’t, and it had led him here.

 

“I have them too,” he said softly.

Harry opened his eyes and squeezed Draco’s hands harder. “I thought it would get easier. But it just keeps happening.”

“I know. It’s the same with me. I don’t think we’re the only ones.”

“Yes, I know,” he sighed and reached down to pull the covers over their shoulders, “I just want everything to make sense again.”

“It doesn’t? Now, I mean.”

Harry shrugged, “It’s like I told you, I thought things would turn out the way I imagined them to, and…”

“Now you’re in bed with Draco Malfoy.”

“I’m really not complaining about that,” he whispered and he felt Harry hooking his feet with Draco’s.

“You’re not?”

“Hermione said I should let go of things, let it happen.”

“Let what happen?”

“Whatever. I’m willing.”

 

When they woke up, Draco wanted to hug Harry and go back to seep. But they didn’t. 

 

*

“I think we should go flying.”

Draco raised his eyebrows at Harry. 

“No, don’t make that face,” he said, pilling food on his plate.

“You wanna go flying?”

“Yeah. I haven’t for a while. When was the last time you did?”

“I was with you.”

Harry stopped buttering up his toast and looked at him. When Draco came down to have breakfast that morning, Hary was already sitting at the Slytherin table, alone. Hermione and Ron were having breakfast at the Gryffindor table and seemed to be chatting with Luna and Neville. When he saw him staring, Neville waved at him, and he waved back.

“I didn’t- Draco, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I just...afterwards I really didn’t have time nor was I in the proper state of mind to  _ want  _ to. And now…” he shrugged, “I dont think I really want to either.”

“Oh.”

Harry went back to his toast and Draco sipped at his tea.

“People keep staring at us.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “What did you expect?”

“I expected them to have something else better to do after so long.”

“I think they have a stroke every time you sit with me.”

“If they did there wouldn’t be so many people looking at us. You think they’re still waiting for us to start screaming at each other?”

“I still scream at you.”

“Yeah, but that’s usually about homework or my clothes.”

Draco looked sideways at him and giggled. Harry hid his smile behind his hand.

 

*

On the nights that they slept together, in the same bed, Harry would always find his hands and touch Draco’s arms. They would talk softly with each other until they fell asleep and when they woke up, they would stay in bed for a few minutes, just enjoying the warmth and the heat and touch of one another.

They never talked about what they were exactly doing and, at this point, Draco was glad. Harry seemed happier: he’d talk his ear off in class and complain about a shirt Draco had on because “Really, who wears that to  _ class _ ” and constantly make fun of Ron for losing to Draco in chess.

But something was changed. Draco barely slept in his room anymore, he’d go to pick up his books and change clothes, and sometimes take a nap during the day, but he mostly kept to Harry’s bedroom. Harry would always invite him there at the end of the night ans, sometimes, if he was feeling brave enough, Draco would ask Harry to sleep in his bed.

Harry would lean in to speak to him in class, touching his arm and whispering in his ear and, at first, the warm breath touching his neck was so nice and intoxicating he’d forget all about the other people in class. But he was sarting to realize that everyone else around them was noticing something different, too. 

Ron and Hermione would look sideways at him when he was staring at Harry when he was talking, or raise an eyebrow every time Harry would touch his arm or speak softly in his ear. And, one time, when Harry decided it was a good idea to touch his hair during Potions, Ron  dropped his spoon into the cauldron and Hermione gaped at them. Harry would touch his hair when they were alone, running his fingers through it, softly caressing the base of his neck and come back to push his hair back, but he’d never done it in public. Except that one time. When Draco swallowed loudly and felt his cheeks grow hot, Harry stopped and realized what he was doing, but not before Hermione and Ron took notice.

But other people were starting to notice too. The Eighth Years were getting used to it: they’d find them sitting next to each other in the Common Room, talking softly and touching fingers quite often, and it was inevitable that they’d find out they slept together more often than not. The first time Neville saw him leaving Harry’s room early one morning, he’d stopped and stared, but by the third or fourth time, they’d greet each other and go about their day.

But some people were not quited forgiving as Harry, Ron and Hermione had been. Draco would hear people talk behind his back, bad mouthing him, not even trying to conceal what they were saying. And it wasn’t just about him and his family anymore. When he brought it up with Harry one night, he just brushed it aside and pulled him closer to him.

Draco had never slept with anyone like this. They hadn’t put a name to it, but it was starting to consume Draco’s thoughts and dreams and every time he got in bed with Harry, his warm skin and his scent would get into his head and he just felt like burrying his nose in Harry’s neck. 

He felt  _ normal _ , like this would be something a boy his age would go through: the uncertainty, the feelings, the  _ butterflies _ . 

Draco was happy.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Christmas came sooner that year, somehow. One moment, Draco was sitting down for the feast at the start of term, and all of a sudden, he was packing to visit his mother in France. He wasn’t spending the whole holidays there; even though he was dying to see his mother, she told him he should probably spend time on his own for a while, since he hadn’t had that in what it felt like forever. His mother seemed better; she had started sending him pictures of the places she visited and little souvenirs. She was meeting new people and their family in France, even though they were not close relatives, seemed to be treating her well. 

There was a knock on his door, and he knew it was Harry.

“Come in.”

Harry poked his head inside and pulled the door closed behind him. 

“Hello. Packed already?” He said, sitting on Draco’s bed and picking at some things he had put on his bed.

“Yes. You?”

Harry nodded. “Hermione and Ron are finishing packing. Though, I’m sure they’re mostly snogging and Hermione will have to spell everything in the trunks.” Draco laughed.

“Are you alright? About seeing your mother and father again, I mean.”

“I am. Mother seems better. She has been planning on taking me to a few places and she is really excited about the new house. Father...well, I’m not sure how that is going to go but I will deal.” His mother and him would be paying him a visit the day after Christmas. Draco was actually dreading it.

Harry was lying on his bed, hands behind his head, looking at Draco. It was a sight he was getting used to. Harry Potter lying on his bed, so carefree, so trusting. He tried not to think what it all meant. And how his body and his stomach reacted when Harry was around.

Draco sat down next to him and Harry leaned into him, sides flushed together. 

“Where are you spending the rest of the Hols? After you come back from the Weasley’s, I mean.”

“Grimmauld Place. Kreacher’s been popping up sometimes, asking me when I’m coing back. He says he wants to show me what he has done with the place. Says he spent these months trying to make it pleasant. Hope he means pleasant for a normal human being.”

Draco smiled. “Are you visiting Teddy?”

He nodded his head vigorously. “Yes”, he said smiling, “I’m dying to see him. I bet he’s grown up so much I will not recognize him.”

Harry got a light in his eyes when he talked about Teddy. Draco had never met him; it had been years since he last saw his aunt, and he was sure he was never introduced to Nymphadora Tonks. 

“Do you think you could send my regards to Andromeda?”

Harry raised his eyebrows at him. “Really?”

“Yes. Do you think she will react badly?”

“No,” Harry said, “she is a very nice woman.”

Draco nodded. 

“When are you leaving?”, asked Harry.

He looked at the clock in his nightstand. “Half an hour.”

“If anything happens and you want to talk or, I don’t know, be with someone, owl me.”

Harry was playing with the hem of his frayed weater, a light blush on his cheeks. Draco smiled. 

“Thank you. And you, if anything happens and you want to talk.”

Harry was grinning and he reached for his hand that was resting on the duvet. He traced  the palm of Draco’s hand witht his hindex finger. It was such a small gesture, such a small touch, but he felt the goosebumps on his skin, and his heart skipped a beat. He released a breath he didn’t kno was holding and touched Harry’s hand back, fingers touching fingers, a light, subtle touch, that still felt electrifying and the most intimate he ever felt with someone. Harry and Draco, lying on his bed, fingers interlaced between them. 

_ Shit _ .

 

*

Draco was on his way to McGonagall’s office when something hit him. At first he thought he had walked into something, maybe Hagrid, maybe a wall. The world turned suddenly pitch black, he felt a stabbing pain on his lower back and on his legs and he knew instantly he had been hit with a hex. He could hear people whispering and steps coming closer; before he could speak or call out for help or even try and reach for his wand or  _ anything _ that would help him, his hands and feet were bound, and someone forced a gag on his mouth. He felt hands on his, strong hands grabbing his arms behind him, where they were bound, and someone kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain, struggling to breathe; they kicked him again and hit the side of his head. His legs gave and he fell to his knees, but someone was still holding his arms behind his body. Whoever it was that was attacking him, knew to make it fast and dirty: they threw some more punches on his face, kicked his legs and his stomach, and the people holding his arms kneed him in the back before he was being lifted from the ground and shoved someplace small and the door was shut closed with a spell. 

Draco was panicking. His attackers didn’t utter a word, they had hurt him, made his body ache all over; he could feel something hot running on the side of his face -  _ probably blood -  _ and he couldn’t breathe properly. At first he thought he was because of the pain in his back and his stomach but then he realized he was having a panic attack. He used to have them often, esecially when the Dark Lord took up residency in his own home, but later he had been better; he coudln’t even remember the last time he had had one. But he could feel it now: his heart was pounding in his chest, his ears filled with the sound of his blood rushing insde him; he was trying to draw breath but he couldn’t, and it was especilly harder because of his gagged mouth. Everything was pitch black and he could feel stone under his feet and behind his back; he couldn’t find a doorknob, and even if he did, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to open the door.  _ Small breaths, Draco _ , he told himself. 

But no use. The walls were closing in on him, and he was either going to be crushed or his heart would give out and he would die, alone, in a closet, somewhere in the castle. 

He was so lost in his own pain, he only realized there were hands trying to help him up and out of the miniscule place, when he was slapped by someone and he heard shouts.

“Draco! For Merlin’s sake, Draco, it’s me Hermione.”

_ Granger _ . 

“Hermione, I think he’s panicking.”

_ Weasley. _

Suddenly his hands and his feet were free; there was a shap pain in his back and someone pulled the rag down and off of his mouth. Draco took a shaky breath; his hands shot out in front of him and he tried to grab something, he tried to center himself.

He heard Weasley shout again, though he couldn’t make out the words.

There were hands hugging his own, and then the hands were on his shoulders and then he felt one of them rubbing small circles on his back while the other was holding the back of his neck down, between his knees.

“Small, deep breaths, Draco, come on.”  _ Harry. _ “You’re okay, I got you.”

Draco managed to grab hold of harry’s sweater and he held on to him. The pressure on his neck and on his back was soothing; Harry kept whispering close to his ear.

“See, there you go, it’s easy.”

He felt him getting closer to him; he was wrapping his arm around his back and touching his hair. He could hear the commotion around him, voices belonging to Hermione and Ron, but he could hear the Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey. There were voices talking loudly around, he didn’t know if it was other students or teachers. 

“Harry.” His voice was rough, his throat felt scratched up and there was a pounding in his head where they hit him. “I can’t see.” 

“What do you mean?”

“They used a spell; I can’t see.”

“Oh”, he made to get up but Draco’s fists tightened on his sweater. “Don’t”, Draco said.

“Alright. But we need to get you to the hospital wing. Can you get up?” 

Draco could; Harry helped. When Harry told Madame Pomfrey what happened to his eyes, she reasured him it wasn’t anything permanent. “Once I acess all your injuries, I will make everything better, don’t you worry, Mr Malfoy!”, she said. She told Draco to get out of his clothes while she got some things ready and pushed the curtain around his bed closed. Harry, Hermione and Ron were just on the other side. 

Draco felt around for the bed and sat. When he tried to take his jumper off, he realized he couldn’t: he couldn’t seem to be able to lift his arms without feling a shot of pain through his back and his abdomen. He groaned.

“Harry.”

“Yes.”, he said in a rushed tone. He heard him stepping closer to the curtains.

“Could you help me?” 

He heard the curtains being pushed aside and felt Harry’s hands touching his face. He pushed Draco’s hair out of the way and touched his cheekbone with his thumb. 

“My sweater - “

Harry let go of his face and tried to help Draco out of his clothes. Draco winced when the muscles on his back stretched but Harry lifted his sweater up and off his head.And then he took a sudden intake of breath. “Draco-”

Draco knew what he was seeing: a crisscross of old, pale, scars, running from just under his collar bones to his navel; there was a very ugly, big scar across his sternum that, unlike the ohers, was a light shade of purple. Draco especially hated that one.

“Are these - “

“Not all of them”, interrupted Draco.

“Do they -”

“Not anymore.”

Harry took a step closer and touched his neck, lightly. Then he stepped away and went to call for Madam Pomfrey.

She didn’t let anyone interrupt her for the next half hour. She worked on Draco, moving her wand around, murmuring encantations and spells; she made Draco drink from a cup and he nearly gagged it was so disgusting, but he didn’t complain. She restored his eyesight and the pain subsided considerably. 

“These scars, I have something that could help, if you want, Mr Malfoy.”, she said, poiting at his chest. His back was covered in them as well; she had seen them. 

“They don’t hurt, Madam Pomfrey.”

She shook her head, “No, Mr Malfoy. It would help with the scarring, make it less noticeable.”

Draco looked down at his body and nodded.

“Mr Potter is outside, waiting. He refused to leave, even when I ordered him to.”, she told him, lips curling in a small smile. Draco could feel himself starting to blush. “I am afraid you will have to spend the night - no, Mr Malfoy, there is no use trying to fight my decision - I want to examine you tomorrow, see how your body is healing. But, if you want, I will allow Mr Potter to see you. Also, the Headmistress would like to have a word with you; she promissed she would be brief.”

With that, she turned on her heel and made for the door. In a minute, Harry was by his side. He had a crease on his forehead; his eyes sought Draco’s and he rested his hand against his. “How do you feel?”, asked Harry, fingers tracing Draco’s hand. It was such a small gesture but it sent spikes of pleasure up his arm; he turned his palm up and Harry kept touching it. 

“I’m okay, Madam Pomfrey says there were no permanent injuries. I’m already healing, it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

Harry shook his head. Draco notices how anxious he was: shoulders set and lips firm. He sat on the bed. 

“Do you have any ideo who it was that did this to you?”

“No, they attacked me from behind, everything went dark before I could register anything useful. But, Harry - “, he squeezed his hand, “- it was bound to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’ve refrained themselves because they thought I was not a threat anymore but then you started talking to me. You and Hermione, and Ron. Longbottom is seen with me frequently. We stop to talk to each other in the corridors. I -,” he sighed,”- well, they’ve noticed  _ us _ .” Harry’s piercing green eyes were fixed on Draco. His facial expression seemed to relax a litle and a small smile was on his lips. “Us?”, he asked.

Draco blushed and looked down. Certainly, Harry noticed. The touching, the sleeping together, the playful banter, the  _ flirting _ . At least he thought it was flirting. IT wasn’t just friendship, was it? Was he wrong?

“Hey, stop thinking, I wasn’t trying to give you doubts, I was just playing with you, stop with that face.” Harry said and touched Draco’s forehead, smoothing the lines that had formed there. “See, much better.”, he said, holding his hand again. “I know what you mean about us.”

Draco let out a small breath. “It wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t touching me all the time.” It wasn’t like Daco minded, he didn’t, at all. Everytime Harry touched him, he discovered a part of himself he did not know about, and he basked in the feeling of Harry’s fingers on im, holding his hand, tracing his bones and smoothing his hair. And,  _ god _ , did he like when other people were around to see it, see Harry Potter touching Draco so easily, so freely, without being afraid of getting hurt by this boy everyone thought was tainted and  _ dark _ .

“I do  _ not _ touch you all the time!” 

Draco laughed. Harry hit him playfully in his shoulder, smirking. He moved up the bed, back against the bedrest and legs crossed.He didn’t let go of Draco’s hand. 

“Madam Pomfrey will kick you out.”

“No, she won’t. I told her if she tried to kick me out I’d just sleep outside on the floor, or break in.” 

Draco raised his eyebrows at him, “Really?”. 

Harry nodded. 

“She says I can sleep here, as long as I don’t bother you or ask too many questions.”

“She’s letting you sleep here.” Draco said flatly. 

“Yup.”

Draco’s heart swelled up and he smiled.  _ This boy will be the death of me _ , he thought.

“Has anyone talked to my mother?”

“Yes, McGonagall left a little before Ron and Hermione -”, 

_ Shit _ , he forgot. “I’m so sorry you missed your train, Harry!” 

“No, it’s okay, we -”

“Why were you still it the castle? You were supposed to be on the way to - “

“Draco, will you let me finish?” He said, bumping his shoulders.

He did.

“We  _ were _ about to leave when McGonagall burst into the Common Room looking for you; you were late, she waited but you didn’t show up. We went out to look for you.”

“Hermione and Ron, as well?” Harry nodded.  _ Who would’ve thought? _ “And then you found me.”

“Hermione and Ron did. And then they called for us: me, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, some of the teachers. You weren’t gone for long, but we worried.” 

“Harry  _ fucking  _ Potter worried about me. I could die happy.” Draco joked.

“Oh, shut up. I always worry about you.” Before Draco could answer, Harry had his arm around his shoulders and maneuvered him so that he was resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry kissed his head and took his hand in his. “I wish I knew who it was.”

“I coudn’t tell. I just know that it was at least three.”

“That’s something.” He ran his hand through Draco’s hair. “McGonagall said she was going to talk to your mother and then come here and talk to you. I think she’ll ask you the same questions I did.” Draco hummed. Draco was tired and,  _ god _ , he was so sore. The warmth of Harry’s hand, the rise and fall of his chest, was relaxing Draco more than anything else could. Harry was being so gently, so  _ kind _ , like he was all the time, it made his chest hurt. And have this kind boy, always looking out for him, helping him and  _ saving  _ him all the time...Draco basked in the feeling.

“Draco?”

“Yes.”

“Can we talk about your scars?”

“No, Harry, not today.”

Harry didn’t push. Instead he kicked his shoes off, removed his glasses and lifted the sheets. He resumed the soothing movements. 

 

They were woken up by voices murmuring close by, and suddenly the curtains were pushed aside. Harry was already reaching for his glasse by the time Draco’s brain finally caught up with the situation. The Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey were by the foot of the bed, gawking at them. Draco couldn’t really blame them: Harry’s hair was disheveled, his clothes rumpled; he had his arm across Draco’s shoulders and Draco’s was across his stomach. And he  _ was _ in bed with Draco Malfoy. 

Draco’s cheeks felt warm.

McGonagall cleared her throat, Madam Pomfrey was still staring. 

“Mr Malfoy, I spoke to your mother, she was worried and was insisting on coming here but I told her Mr Potter was with you and she seemed to calm down after that.” Harry’s hand squeezed his shoulder and McGonagall’s eyes held a spark to them and Draco could’ve sworn he hear Madam Pomfrey utter in a hushed voice “Wonder why”. McGonagall went on. “Now, I wish you could tell me what happened Mr Malfoy, spare no details, if you please.”

 

By the time they both left - after Harry convincing them it was best if he stayed next to Draco at which Madam Pomfrey had snorted and McGonagall had smiled knowingly - Draco was exhausted. 

“I think it’s best if we get some sleep, we’ll have to be up early”, Harry pointed out.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys get another chapter today! I don't know if I'll be able to post tomorrow so, here it is. Thank you so much for the lovely comments, they mean a lot to me. If you have suggestions or something you'd like to see in this fic, please tell me, Your opinions are most welcome.   
> Hope you like this one!

After getting through the Floo and to his mother, she had worried and fussed over him for an hour: asking if he had saw the attacker, or even if he could identify voices or smells; if he was hurt, if Madam Pomfrey had taken care of him. She touched his face and brushed his hair and told him how much she had missed him. 

Her voice was more sure, there were no bags under her eyes and her hair was shiny and tied in a knot at the top of her head. Her speech was clear and there was no sluring, her eyes sharp and jaw set, and head held high. Draco had missed her os much he didn’t even bother with trying to stop her from fussing over him. 

Christmas was a small afair. Draco spent the day with his mother and some relatives and there was good food and good wine. When the time arrived to open their Christmas presents, Draco was shocked to find a small parcel, wrapped in Slytherin green, with a little tab saying ”From Harry, to Draco”. Draco had left his presents with Hermione, he trusted she would give Harry and Ron his presents but he wasn’t expecting Harry to get him a gift as well. He looked up around the room and found his mother’s eyes. She crossed the room and sat next to him. “Harry sent me a letter and asked me his opinion.” She flicked her eyes up, to look at him. “Open up.”, she nudged him.

Crefully unwarpping the paper, Draco reached for the small, dar box inside. 

His eyes focused on what was inside and his heartbeat went up.  _ He remembered. _

“He told me you had mentioned you were in need of new ones. But he was at lost of what kind to get. I helped a little bit.”, his mother declared.

Inside, there were cufflinks, all in silver with a small dragon, with splashes of green. 

“I can’t believe he remembered.”, he whispered. 

“You mentioned it to him, didn’t you?”

He nodded, “Yes, I was picking a shirt and realised that I had left all of them at home, and I wasn’t sure if we had gotten rid of it or if you had brought them with you to France. I told him I would have to go out and buy some.”, he smiled, “He offered to go with me but I refused.”

Narcisa covered her son’s hand with her own. “It was very thoughtful of him, Draco. Though...what was Harry doing in your room, I wonder.”

“No,” he cheeks sarted burning up,”no, it’s not like that.” Narcisa chuckled. “It’s okay, Draco, whatever it is happening between you two, I am happy.”

That was the end of that.

That night, Draco sent a letter to Harry.

 

_ Harry, _

_ I have no words to express how wonderful your gift was, though you really didn’t have to get me anything. But thank you. It was lovely.  _

_ France is still as wonderful as I remembered. Please tell Hermione I visited the bookshop and the museum she mentioned and both me and mother loved it. I brought her souvenirs and the book she wanted. _

_ Hope you had a good Christmas; send my best to Ron and Hermione.  _

_ Love, Draco. _

 

He paused on the word  _ love _ , but decided to keep it anyways. 

 

*

 

The next day, at breakfast, Draco received a letter from Harry. And his mother received a letter from Harry.

 

_ Dear Draco, _

_ I am glad you liked it. I hope I get to see you wearing them some day. I am leaving The Burrow today, I am heading home untill school starts again, though I hope to see you before that.  _

_ Love, Harry. _

 

His heart skipped a beat. He reread the letter, his eyes lingering on  _ Dear Draco _ and  _ Love, Harry  _ and wondering what he meant with  _ hope to see you before that _ . Harry was planning on seeing him before Hogwarts? How? Wasn’t he leaving for Grammauld Place?

He heard his mother clearing her throat and glance at Draco. “What, what’s happened?”, he asked.

She shook her head, like she was in a daze, and smiled at Draco. “Harry - he....here” She passed the letter to Draco.

 

_ Mrs Malfoy, _

_ Draco mentioned you were both to see Mr Malfoy today. I called a few favours and you are both allowed spend the afternoon and to dine with him. _

_ Hope you had a pleasant Christmas, _

_ Harry. _

 

“Oh.” 

“Draco, dear...what is happening between you and Harry?”

His mother was looking at him with a fond look on her face, like she knew the answer already but was hoping Draco would answer her. But, how could he, when he didn’t know himself? They were friends, for sure. They were together a lot of the time, and studied together, and talked about the things that scared them and things that made them happy. They slept together, a lot. And Harry told him it was not something he was making up in his mind. But  _ what were they _ , exactly, he didn’t know.

“We - we’re friends.”

“Friends?”

He nodded.

“Draco, for him to be able to do this for us, a whole afternoon and dinner with your father...I am not sure he feels he’s just a friend to you.”

He glanced up at his mother but didn’t say a word.

“You said he was in your room when you mentioned the cufflinks.”

He sighed. “He was.”

“Is he in your room a lot, then?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you in his?”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake - what are you trying to say, mother?” He felt his cheeks grow hotter and he got up from the table. 

“Are you, well, are you  _ involved? _ ”

“Involved?”

She nodded, “Yes, have you two kissed? Or - “

Draco was shaking his head, his body trembling. He was  _ not _ ready for this conversation. He didn’t want know how his mother felt about the subject, if she would push him away from Harry, or if she would seize this as an oportunity to erase the shame from the Malfoy name. Either way he didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Mother, whatever is happening between Harry and I, it  _ is  _ between Harry and I. I don’t want any advice or tips or, well  _ anything _ that you might have to offer on the subject.”

“Draco, dear, if it is truth, it would be such a good time to - “

“No”, he interrupted, fists clenching and eyes zeroing on his mother,”not this time, you are not. It is  _ my  _ life, mother. I am taking control. I know you mean the best but that might not mean the best for  _ me _ . I am not letting you take this away from me, too.”

His mother sat in silence, hands folded on her lap, her eyes glistening. Draco didn’t mean to be so harsh, to make his mother hurt, but he  _ had _ to think of himself, now. 

“Mother”, he tried, with a gentle voice,”the Malfoy name is not what it was, anymore. And I’m glad. I’m trying to make something of myself, I’m trying to grow and I’m trying to figure things out by myself. I love you, and I love father, but what happened” he shook his head, sitting down once again and facing his mother,” what happened took a lot from me. A lot from us. And I don’t want our name to be built on Harry’s behalf. I want, whatever is happening between us, to grow because of me, because I changed, because we can now seek each other and realise that we like the company. I don’t want any meddling in it.”

A tear was running down Narcissa’s face, “I am sorry, Draco. I am so sorry.” She grabbed her son’s shoulders and weeped. 


	11. Chapter 11

The next letter came two days after Draco and his mother visited his father.

 

_ Draco, _

_ I hope you are not angry at me for doing what I did. I thought your mother would like it, and that maybe you could talk.  _

_ Love, Harry. _

 

Draco sighed.  _ Stupid boy, _ he thought. He didn’t know how much he had missed being able to spend time with his father untill they arrived in Azkaban. Though they were allowed to spend the majority of the day with him, the time flew by, and Draco was once again saying goodbye to his father. His heart and his head was in a turmoil. How could he reconcile the love he still held for his father with the things he had done, the danger he had put his family in, the things he had saw him do. And he didn’t think he was changed: he still believed in the preservation of the pure-bloods; he still believed they should be honoured and kept safe. Though, he was a beaten man. There were bags under his eyes, even though he looked well fed and taken care of. But there was somethng in his voice, something missing in his eyes, something Draco couldn’t quite say what it was; he hoped it was regret and shame, the realisation that he had done some wrong things in his life.

His mother was ecstatic. He knew how much she suffered when his father was locked away, how much she relied on him throughout all of her life, but seeing her, tend to him and touch his hands, her eyes shiny and round...Draco felt a little defeated. He didn’t think they were changing the way they saw life, but he couldn’t deny that it also warmed his heart, knowing they still loved each other.

So, Draco was not angry, per say. He was grateful Harry had given his mother this opportunity, and he was grateful he himself could be in the presence of his father and know that, even though he loved him, he knew all the things he had done and couldn’t be forgiven for.

“Is that Harry, sweeheart?”, his mother inquired. He nodded and excused himself from the table to write Harry back. “Do send him my thanks, Draco”, his mother said when he was leaving.

 

_ Harry, _

_ I am not angry, you git. I am thankful for what you did, and my mother is, as well. But I can not deny that being in the presence of my father did not impact me in any form. It did. I still love him, and you might despise that I do, Harry, but it is the truth. But I also know of all the terrible things he did, and I know he deserves to be in Azkaban. It is still painful, though. _

_ I am leaving for Hogwarts sometime this week, I think I have had enough of France.  _

_ Love, Draco. _

 

_ * _

 

_ Draco,  _

_ I was hoping you could join me in Grimmauld Place for the rest of the Holidays. That is unless you have talked to McGonagall and have everything already figured out. But if you haven’t, and if you’d like to, I would be glad if you could keep me company. We’re a walking distance to Central London, if that would tempt you. _

_ Love, Harry. _

 

_ * _

 

_ Harry,  _

_ I cannot believe you would send my mother an owl asking her if it was okay for me to go and see you. What century do you think this is, you twat? She laughed at my face for hours and pretended she wouldn’t let me come. Honestly, I could kill you. _

_ Love, Draco _

 

_ * _

_ Draco, _

_ You can’t see me but I am laughing at the picturre you painted me I’d have loved to have seen your face.  _

_ Though, does that mean you will come? _

_ Love, Harry. _

 

_ *  _

Draco refused to let Harry Floo to their house so they could both go to Grimmauld Place. It was both for his sake and Harry’s; he didn’t think he could handle the looks and the questions his mother was sure to make. 

That was why, on the 29th of December, Draco Apparated to a street near Hyde Park. Harry was already there.

“Hello!”

Draco smiled, “Hi.”

Harry reached for Draco’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Draco’s hand went up to Harry’s back. 

“Good to see you”, Harry mouthed against his neck, sending goosebumos down his back.

Draco hugged him tighter, “You too.”

The walk to Grammauld Place was short and pleasant, despite the cold and the sharp winds. Harry was happily recounting the days he spent at the Burrow: how he missed the warmth and the chaos; the Weasleys themselves; the house; the long conversations by the fireplace; the late night talks with Ron and Hermione.

“But everyone felt Fred’s absence”, he finished, with a sad smile.

“How is George?”

Harry shrugged, “He’s - “, he paused, “he’s not the same, as was expected. But I don’t think there is anything anyone could do to help him. Mrs Weasley talks to him a lot, but she feels the loss, as well.”

Draco nodded and touched Harry’s hand, lightly. He smiled and bumped his shoulder against Draco’s.

“How was it with Ginny?”

Harry laughed, “Surprisingly well. It seems she had already talked to everyone and made threats.”

“Threats?”

“Yeah, no one was to touch the subject or she’d hex them. But Mr Weasley said that, even though he was sorry it didn’t work out, he was happy we realised soon enough we weren’t a right fit.”

Draco nodded and soon enough they arrived.

“You could have just Flood here, you know?”, Harry said, unlocking the door. 

“Mother would have found a way to come along.” 

“And you haven’t told her about us.”

“No”, he said, “that’s not why.”

The door gave way to the hall. Draco wasn’t certain he had ever set foot in this house, but from Harry’s words, he didn’t think it would look as it does now: the hall was spacious and light; he could see the living room from here, with white and pastel colours and a large sofa; the house smelled of paint and new furniture. 

“You’ve redecorated, haven’t you?” Harry nodded and lead him in. 

“Had to tear a few walls down and ask help from Mr Weasley but I think it turned out alright.” Draco thought as well. Harry lead him down the corridor, to the last door on the right, “This is my room, you can take this one, if you want”, he said poiting to the one opposite, “or, well” he blushed furiously but looked Draco in the eye, “you can just take mine.”

Draco pushed through Harry’s door and layed down his things. “This one seems comfortable enough.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

Draco was sitted at the kitchen table, a mug of tea next to him, while he chopped vegetables. Harry had asked if he wanted to go out to have lunch but he said he didn’t, so Harry was cooking him lunch. After confessing he didn’t know how to cook, Harry had laughed and said he could help by chopping some vegetables, so he was.

“Draco?”

“Haum.”

“Why haven’t you told your mother about us?”

“Oh, well, she did ask. After you sent her that letter about my father she asked. We sort of got into a fight about it, actually.”

“Because you were mad I did what I did?”

Draco rolled his eyes at him, “No, you moron, I told you I wasn’t mad. But mother pressed me for information: asking what was happening between us, because we didn’t seem to be just friends; and why you were in my bedroom that one time I mentioned the cufflinks….and I snapped at her. I might have been too harsh, really, but - ”, he got up to rinse the vegetables, leaning into the sink, “- I’m not sure what we are, and whatever she thinks we should be, I don’t care.” He turned to face Harry, “Honestly, Harry, I don’t know what we have, this enemies to friends to, well, I don’t know. And I don’t want her whispering in my ear about what to do or how beneficial it would be for the Malfoy name if we -” he let out a breath but did not elaborate.

He could feel his cheeks heating up, so he turned back to the sink, “Here are your vegetables. Let it be known that Draco Malfoy knows how to chop vegetables, if nothing else.”

Harry snorted. “I don’t think that would help you; you’d still starve.” He approached Draco slowly, but still, Draco didn’t turn, eyes fixed on the sink, hands grabbing the edge for something to hold on to. His heart threatened to beat out of his chest and his legs felt like they were made of rubber. When harry touched the small of his back, Draco closed his eyes; and when he whispered in his ear, he could feel the hot breath and the goosebumps. 

“Whatever is happening between us, I know it’s because of us, not your mother. I -”, his hand went higher, resting between Draco’s shoulder blades, his fingers tracing the spot, “- well, I do like you, Draco Malfoy .

He dared to look at Harry: he was too close, engulfing him; his hand on his back was warming his body, the heat radiating off of him; his breath in Draco’s neck; eyes looking right at him. And then, Harry pulled both his hands towards him and pinned him to the sink.

Draco couldn’t move, he wasn’t sure he  _ could  _ move. Something in Harry’s eyes made his knees wobble, his heart race, and his eyes were locked onto Harry’s lips. Harry’s hands went to his waist, holding him in place, and he moved one of his legs between Draco’s. “I like you, as crazy as that is. With all our crazy history, our fights and hexes and near dead experiences. I like you”, he said, bringing his hand to his face and circling a spot near his ear with his finger. “I thought going back to Hogwarts would be a mistake; you know I mostly did it because of Ron and Hermione. But truth is, the letters you sent me, they helped as well. I thought perhaps I wouldn’t feel so alone, there was someone there that could relate to what was happening to me.” And he leaned into him. Before he could process what was happening, Harry was kissing his neck. It was such a small kiss, so chaste, so light, but his body reacted immediatly: he moved his neck sideways, giving him better acess to his pale skin; and his hands went to Harry’s shoulders without him even thinking about it. Harry’s grip tightened, one hand reaching up to Draco’s neck, hoding him in place, while the other grabbed at his skin. He was placing light kisses to the patch of skin available to him, leaving a hot trail from Draco’s ear to hollow of his collar bone. Harry mouthed at his earlobe and suddenly there was  _ tongue _ , Harry’s tongue licking at the skin behind his ear, licking a long stip of skin along Draco’s jaw. And Draco’s knees felt like giving up on him, so he held tighter to Harry’s shoulders. And Harry began sucking small marks on his skin that he knew would leave a mark, but he just didn’t  _ care _ . Harry was touching him,  _ properly _ this time. 

He felt a hand on his thigh and he realised what Harry was trying to do: he hopped on to the sink and parted his legs, giving Harry a better acess and making them both moan with the sudden, intimate contact that it provided. And it was _ intimate _ : he could feel the length of Harry’s cock along the inside of his thigh, and he was sure he coud fell Draco’s as well. He should probably be feeling ashamed that he was so hard from Harry just kissing his neck, but Harry was as well, so he couldn’t be bothered.  

Between kisses, Harry continued talking, never letting his lips wander farther from his neck, “And when I got there, you were  _ nice _ ! You were so nice, Draco, I’d never seen that side of you before: the one that could say ‘I’m sorry’, and would ask for Hermione’s help, and would play chess with Ron. And,” he let go of his neck and looked at him, “I could talk to you. I could talk to someone without having them give me strange looks or pitying me. I thought, well, maybe we could be friends, you know? But you were  _ there _ all the time, and when you weren’t, I would miss you. I would miss your pointy face and your snarky coments and  _ your smell _ ! Fuck, Draco”, he leaned into his neck and kissed a spot right beneath his ear. Draco gasped. “Your smell, that first time you slept in my bed, it lingered, and then I just couldn’t get enough of you.”

It took a few seconds fo Draco’s mouth to reconnect with his brain; Harry’s hot breath was filling his senses. His hands were caressing his face, his body flushed against Draco’s, and his eyes so  _ green _ and wide, Draco let out a small breath and smiled. 

“I like you, too.”

Harry’s smile punched a hole in Draco’s stomach. How could someone so beautiful, so selfless, so  _ good _ , like him? 

Harry burried his face in Draco’s neck and hugged him; he could feel his eyelashes touch his skin, and his lips on his neck. Harry was filling his every sense, he wasn’t sure he would ever come down from this high of having Harry so close to him, telling him how he made him feel and  _ feeling _ the length of him throughout the entire conversation. He wanted to kiss him, to touch him; to tell him how he had entered his life when he needed someone the most, how he made him see the world differently, every time he looked at Draco, every time he smiled that little crooked smile that made Draco’s insides turn; how, the first time he slept in his bed he had felt  _ safe _ and content; how Draco’s world had tilted, had shifted for the better, and that was okay, Draco could handle that. But he stopped himself: from touching, from pouring his heart out; from kissing him. Instead, he told him the truth, “I’m scared”.

“Scared?”, Harry’s words were muffled because he did not let go of Draco’s neck and his arms were still arounf his torso.

“I’ve never considered being with”, he paused, “a  _ boy.” _

Harry huffed a laugh, “Trust, I haven’t either. Up untill a few months ago I thought I would never be in a relationship again because I just seemed to be rubbish at them. Now I’m thinking I was probably rubbish at relationship with girls.”

Draco couldn’t get past the word  _ relationship _ . He cleared his throat and his his face in Harry’s neck, “Relationship?”.

At that, Harry did dislodge himself from Draco, “Yes? I mean, if you want to.”

“You mean, dating?”

Harry nodded, fear and uncertainty in his eyes, “We could...take things slowly, see where we’re headed. But I’d like to have something solid.”

“Solid?”

“Yeah”, he shrugged, “I want to tell people we’re actually, you know, an item.”

Draco laughed at Harry’s face, like he had been looking for a particular word and now that he said it, he realised it was a mistake, “An item?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean!”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. So, you want us to be... _ boyfriends.” _

“Oh, my god, don’t say it like it’s a dirty word!”

“Well, I’m sorry, I’m realising at eighteen that I might be gay and that I like my arch enemy!”

Harry smiled but grabbed his hand, “Look, if you feel uncomfortable, it’s perfectly fine, I want whatever it is you want to give me.”

Draco just shook his head. Things were coming out wrong. 

“No, look, I told you I like you. And I agree we should take things slowly. And I’m okay with us being an  _ item”,  _ Harry batted a hand at him, “I’m just coming to the realisation that this is real. It’s not just us touching hands in your bedroom or sleeping in the same bed, you know? It’s aknowledging we have something that we want to persue.”

“Yes, it is. And I’m okay with that.”

“You’ve always been far braver than I ever was.”

“Oh, come on”, Harry rolled his eyes, “Are you saying you don’t want to date me?”

“No, Merlin, I want to! I do, more than anything, but you know me, I might, at some point, realise I am doing more harm than good and just…”, he gestured with his hand between them, “I might get scared”, he finished.

“I think I can handle that”, Harry said, smiling and touching the base of his neck. “Will you tell your mother about us?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you think she will interfere?”

“She knows that we have something already. If anything, me telling her I’d be spending the rest of the holiday in your house gave her the confirmation.”

“Does she know we’ll be sleeping together?”

Draco blushed, “No!”

Harry laughed and rested his hands on his hips, “But she does know we’re in each other’s rooms all the time.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think she’d jump to the conclusion that we’re sleeping together.”

“But we are.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t need to know yet!”

Harry snickered.

“Are you telling Ron and Hermione?”

“Yes, of course. I mean, when I told them I wanted to have you over Ron just rolled his eyes and said ‘Finally’ and Hermione just patted my hand.”

“Hum, that easy?”

“They knew already, I think.”

“I think Hermione found out and told Ron.”

Harry laughed, “Probably.”

“They’re really good friends, Harry.”

“I know. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t sat with Ron that first time, or if we hadn’t saved Hermione from the Troll.”

“What does the Troll have to do with anything?”, he asked, confused.

Harry laughed and proceeded to explain their first adventure together.

 

*

 

“So, let me get this straight”, Harry snorted, but Draco ignored him, “you three actually went up against the Dark Lord in our first year.”

Harry nodded.

“Right. And you defeated the Basilisk  _ and _ faced the Dark Lord for a second time.”

Harry nodded.

“And, in our third year, you -”

“Yes! Before you go through them all again, yes, we did do that.”

Draco just sat at the table, his plate pushed away from him, and looked at Harry.  _ Surely _ not everything could be true, he thought.

“So, you fought off a hundred dementors, on your own? Even though you heard your mother...dying?”

“Yes, and we flew off on the back of the Hipogriff you nearly had killed”, he said in an exasperated tone.

Draco winced, “Sorry about that.”

Harry waved a hand, “He’s alright now. You already knew about these things, why are you so surprised?”

Draco looked at him, in disbelief, “Are you serious? How were we to know, with absolute certainty, that you, an eleven-year-old-boy and his two friends, went up against the Dark Lord and won? I mean, Harry, none of us had seen anything! Suddenly Dumbledore was like ‘ Oh, yes, by the way, a thousand point for Gryffindor for deafeating You-Know-Who’, and we were supposed to believe him? And a basilisk? Really? Harry Potter, age twelve, defeated a  _ freaking basilisk _ and survived? Also,  _ dementors _ ? We didn’t have any  _ proof! _ All of a sudden, as we were nearing the end of the semester, Dumbledore would come out and say you did these amazing,  _ impossible _ things but we didn’t have any  _ proof! _ A Chamber only the Heir of Sltherin could enter but no one at school could go and have a look? What, you just left the basilisk down there to rot?”

“Actually, yeah, we did.”

Draco scowled at him.

“Well, but it really did happen!”

“ _ I know!” _ He threw his hands up in defeat, “That’s why it’s so amazing.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for leaving Kudos and commenting, it means the world to me. Hope you enjoy this one <3

 

After lunch, Harry asked Draco if he’d like to go for a walk. He did. Dressing themselves for the harsh London winter, they both left the house. 

Draco loved London; he had a new found love for her. And he loved London this time of the year: the dark, heavy skies, always threatening to rain; the shop windows, decorated with Christmas themes; people seemed happier and calmer. And he loved London when he was strolling through the streets with Harry talking in his ear about anything and everything. 

“I once came here with my aunt and uncle and had to watch Duddley eat so many sweets he had a stomach ache for a week”, he said, poiting at a sweets shop.

“You were more restrained, then.”

“No, they just didn’t let me have any”, he replied.

“What do you mean”, he looked down at him, “They didn’t let you have any sweets?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“How come?”

“They -”, he looked down and took his time to answer, “They were not very nice to me.”

“I thought it was just your cousin that bullied you.”

“He did, but -”

“Your aunt and uncle, as well?”, he asked surprised, and when Harry nodded, Draco’s heart broke a little bit.

“No, that’s not acceptable. Did Dumbledore know?”

“Yes.”

He stopped Harry with a hand on his arm, and moved them away from the pedestrians, near the wall of the shop.

“Dumbledore knew they were abusive and didn’t do anything?”

Harry sighed and leaned in, “Yes. I know what you must be thinking. And Hermione told me the same thing years ago and more recently after the War. I know.”

“Harry -”

“No, don’t. I had to wake up every day in that house, thinking my parents died in a car crash and being neglected by everyone around me for eleven years. And when I thought I was safe, it just meant that the person I trusted knew I had to die eventually and didn’t even bother to tell me. I know, Draco. But I can’t be thinking about the bad things all the time or I just won’t move on, ever!”

Draco was speechless. He didn’t know how to go on from all this information. Harry being abused as a child, not being allowed any sweets while watching his cousin consume everyhting in the shop; growing up without parents or loving relatives; being bullied all the time, deprived of everything good about being a child; being robbed of his own  _ childhood _ . It was like he didn’t matter, that what mattered was that he was to grow up to defeat the Dark Lord, whatever else happened, he was supposed to endure and not complain. 

And Draco had hurt this boy. This beautiful boy, who grew up to be so good that he had accepted Draco after everything he had done to him. The feeling in his chest intensified, it kept him from breathing. And Harry just looked at him, lips parted and eyes shining, his hand touching Draco’s fingers. 

Draco leaned in, slowly, his hand reaching up to wrap itself around Harry’s neck, pushing him slightly forward. He heard Harry take a sharp intake of breath and saw him close his eyes. Draco touched his lips to Harry’s. A soft, chaste kiss. Harry was warm under him, his arms around Draco’s back, pulling him against him and Draco pulled back.

“I think we should go in there and get you as many sweets as possible, what do you think?”, he said in a low voice, dragging his hand from his neck to thumb at Harry’s cheek. Harry smiled and nodded.

 

*

 

“What is that?”

They were walking along the Millenium bridge when Harry produced a silver machine from the inside pocket of his coat.

“It’s a camera.”

“For taking photographs?”

Harry nodded.

“You’re gonna take photographs?”

“Yes, of us.”

“Of us?”

“Yes, now shut up and smile.”

 

*

 

That night, when they got home, Harry went to the kitchen to make tea and Draco went upstairs to take a shower. They had walked around London all day, once or twice entering a shop to buy a cup of tea and eat something, and browsing through the books at bookshops. Harry showed him his favourite spots: the path along Thames, near the Big Ben; and a small shop that sold old records and where you could sit down and have coffee (Draco let Harry talk about Fleetwood Mac and The Who for twenty minutes, not wanting the happy, excited look from Harry’s face to fade away).

Draco couldn’t seem to stop smiling; he tried to keep his emotions in check, tried to keep himself from smiling so much, but he couldn’t. And truth be told, he didn’t want to. He was on the verge of crying of happiness every time he thought about Harry’s hand in his, or how Harry seemed to always seek his opinion when making a decision, or the look in his face when he talked about the Weasleys, or Hermione or Teddy. He made Draco help him choose a Muggle toy for him from one of the big retail stores near Picaddily and Draco didn’t even pretend to find that the biggest bore in the world: he showed Harry his favourite things from the store and laughed when an employee tried to flirt with Harry but he didn’t even notice.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about his lips, their softness and their warmth; how his breath on his neck felt at lunch, his hands grabbing his hips, the soft caress of his lips, sucking at a point behind his ear. 

Draco stopped himself from thinking about Harry’s lips and hands long enough to finish his shower. He was about to walk down to join Harry when he shouldered open the bedroom door, two cups of steaming hot tea in both hands.

“Here”, he said, handing Draco his mug, “Kreacher shooed me out of the kitchen, he said he’s handling breakfast tomorrow, that he’s had enough of me cooking there and that he cooks well enough we shouldn’t be dining out.”

Draco smiled. He met Kreacher when they got home, after having dinner, and he seemed to have liked him a lot.

“I think he just wants to show you he’s a good elf, doesn’t want to let the Black family down”, said Harry.

Draco shrugged, “He’s a strange elf.”

Harry agreed and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower; Draco pulled the covers back and made himself comfortable on the bed, with his tea warming his hands. Harry’s room was similar to his at Hogwarts: pictures lined the walls; a small bookcase was cluttered with all kinds of books, at one side of the bedroom; and there was an array of random pieces of clothing, sticking out from his wardrobe. Draco loved it: it smelled like Harry, a particular smell that was only his, that made his heart beat faster and a grin appear on his face.

Harry came into the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in a ratty old shirt and pajama bottoms, his feet bare and his glasses in his hands. 

“Can you see anything wihout them?”, Draco said poiting at the glasses.

Harry chuckled, “Not really, no.”

He sat down next to Draco and moved closer to him. 

“I really liked today, though I don’t think I’ll ever be eating that much sugar in one sitting ever again.”

Draco smirked, “Yeah, you will. You have a sweet tooth.”

“I have a sweet tooth? Your mum used to send you chocolates and pastries every few days when we were young!”, he rebutted

Draco laughed, “Mum thought I’d starve at Hogwarts.”

Harry just rolled his eyes and sipped at his tea.

“Harry?”

“Hum?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Harry paused and looked at him. “Yes”, he said breathlessly, putting down his mug and turning to look at Draco.

He did not waste a second: he seeked his embrace and let out a small sigh when Harry burried his hands in his hair. Draco crushed his lips to Harry’s, letting his scent fill the air around him, letting his hands wander freely on his body: touching the small of his back, his ribs, grabbing his shoulders and pulling Harry to him, up and onto his lap, securing Harry’s body with his arms and deepening the kiss. Harry moaned, his tongue darting out to touch at Draco’s bottom lip and then his upper lip; one of his hands unwrapping from Draco’s neck to touch at his sides, to grab at his shirt and to pull him closer, which Draco didn’t think was even possible. 

This, the touching, so free and careless, both of them enjoying being near each other, around each other, bretahing each other,  _ this _ made everything worth it. Both of them giving in to their feeling, their age; both presenting each other as they really were, no pretense, just opening up to each other, talking about their pain and their lives; Draco trusting Harry so fully and knowing Harry trusted him back. This was worth it, everything. 

Harry was touching and kissing him so thoroughly, Draco was sure he’d be done in a minute, and it didn’t help that he was sitting on his lap and holding him so close to him thatt Draco was feeling  _ everything _ . But he could not deny the smile that crept up on his face when Harry let out a harsh breath due to the contact of their hips. 

“Are you okay?” Draco tried to make his voice even, but he was breathless and  _ hard _ and full of want.

“Yeah, just -”, he made a noise at the back of his throat and went for Draco’s lips again.

Draco huffed a laugh, “Feels good to be eighteen, doesn’t it?”

Harry touched his forehead to Draco’s and smiled, “I never thought it could feel like this.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. It never felt like this before”, he raised his hand to cup Draco’s cheek, his eyes finding his.

“You mean kissing?”

Harry shook his head, “No, just, I don’t know, being with someone. It never felt like this, wanting all of it at the same time and never getting enough.”

Draco blushed.  _ This boy is going to be the death of me _ , he thought. “I know what you mean.”

“You’re in my house, you’re in my  _ bed _ ! I’m kissing you and it feels like I’ve been asleep all this time. Look -”, he took Draco’s hand and touched it to his chest, right over his heart, “- feel how fast it’s beating? I swear, right now I’d have the courage to fight off ten Voldemorts and come back to kiss you.”

Draco shook his head, smiling, “I think the one was enough, but I liked that part about you kissing me.”

So Harry did, full on the mouth, hands pressing against his chest, glasses askew. Draco loved it: loved seeing Harry like this: breath against his mouth; swollen, red lips; a glistening to his eyes and the  _ feel _ of him on top of Draco. He had imagined this many times before but he had to admit that it had never felt this good.

Harry pressed a hand under his back and, lifting off of him, dragged Draco down and under him. All of this wihout ever letting go of his mouth. It was Draco’s turn to moan, though. While that first time had been an accident, this time Harry was purposely writhing above Draco, flushing their bodies against each other, and dragging his hips against Draco’s. He gasped when Harry left his lips to mouth at his neck, like he had done earlier that day, sucking a bruise under his ear and above his collar bone. Draco knew the bruises would be visible and the thought made him arch up against Harry and gasp which, in turn, made Harry come back up and look at Draco. 

Draco had never paid much attention to Harry’s eyes, though, of course, he had known they were green. But the green staring back at him now was different from any green he had ever seen. It just made him want Harry more.

“Harry”, he gasped; he was sure he had something he wanted to say, but Harry was still looking at him and all words were lost.

“Tell me what you want.”

_ No _ , he thought. He shook his head, “No, I -”, he touched the hem of Harry’s shirt and slowly touched his fingers to the soft, warm, dark skin there. Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head to Draco’s chest, his body soft and pliant. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

“I do”; said Harry, voice muffled, “but you seem to be enjoying this so much.”

Draco snorted,”Of course I’m enjoying this, Harry, but that doesn’t mean we should rush into things just because. We’d never even kissed until today.”

Harry lifted his head and propped one hand on one side of Draco, supporting his weight, “You don’t wanna -”, he paused and blushed furiously, “do things with me?”

“Do things with you?”, Draco teased, but before Harry could answer or blush even more, Draco let his other hand touch the small of Harry’s back, rubbing small circles. “Harry, I wanna do  _ all _ the things with you. Absolutely all the things. I wanna take you on dates, and hold your hand, and tell your friends about us; I wanna take more silly pictures with Muggle cameras and hang them around your place; I wanna go to plays and go to movies and go to parties and have you as my date; I wanna kiss you all the time, everywhere, even if our friends hate us and hex us; I wanna share all my secrets, and all my fears, and all my passions with you. Harry”, he sighed and smiled at the fond, surprised look on Harry’s face, “I wanna do life with you. So, I am okay with taking things slow if it means I get to do all the things with you.”

Harry kept staring, but his eyes were watering and he squeezed Draco’s shoulder.

“I think I am okay with life, too.”

Draco smiled and kissed his lips.

“Kissing boys is so much different than kissing girls, isn’t it?”, asked Harry, after a while.

“I have only kissed one girl in my life and it was a terrible experience, so yes, it is very different. They’re so different I think they’re on different realms of existence.”

“Who was she?”

“Pansy.”

“I thought you two hadn’t dated.”

“We didn’t”, he shrugged, “It was just one kiss.”

“So, you’re definitely gay?”

“Yes, I think so. I mean, I haven’t had many experiences with, well,  _ anyone _ , but I think so, yes.

“Anyone?”

“Don’t look so smug, Potter,”he said after glancing at Harry’s face, “it doesn’t suit you.”

“Does that mean I’m the only boy you’ve ever kissed?”

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s look and tone of voice and at himself, if he had to admit, because  _ of course _ Harry Potter had to be the first boy Draco kissed.

“Yes, if you must know and if it’s so important to you. But”, he grinned at Harry, “I am your first, too.”

Draco was expecting a smart retort, matching the playful conversation they were having, but Harry kissed his cheek and the bridge of his nose and spoke softly and in a low voice, “First of many things.”

 

*

That night, all they did till the early hours of the morning was alternate between kissing and talking. But their hands would wander: they would touch their backs, their faces; interlace their fingers; a soft touch on their arms or on the strip of skin on their stomachs, every time one of their shirts rode up. They placed small kisses on each other’s necks (Draco took his time sucking a bruise right beneath Harry’s ear and looked at it proudly every time he glanced down at Harry’s neck), and touched their feet together. 

At one point they fell asleep, because when Draco woke up, he was terribly hungry and Harry was plastered to the front of his chest, dark skin contrasting to Draco’s whiteness, and his hair tickling his nose. He forgot all about his hunger and moved to hug Harry tighter against him, breathing in his scent and touching his chest, feeling the rise and fall, and the soft, beating of his heart underneath.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Draco found Harry in the kitchen.

“I thought Kreacher forbid you from cooking.”

Harry smiled back at him and leaned in for a small peck of lips. “I asked nicely.”

“I thought we could do something today.”

“What do you wanna do?”

“I wanna go to a place.”

“Okay, what place?”

“You’re gonna have to trust me and come along.”

Harry looked at him sideways, “Where are you taking me, Draco Malfoy?”

Draco just smiled.

 

Before leaving the house, Draco insisted on disguising themselves.

“Why?”, asked Harry.

“It’s for the better, trust me.”

“I do, you moron, I’d just like to know why I’ll be walking around like a fifty year old man.”

Draco rolled his eyes at him, “Can you just do this without complaining?”

Harry huffed but complied.

“Okay, are you ready?”, said Draco, extending his arm to Harry. 

Harry nodded and they Apparated.

 

Draco felt the sharp winds and the cold before he could open his eyes. Apparating always made him feel a litle queasy but he sucked in a breath and opened his eyes. It was a very gloomy day: the skies were dark and it threatened to rain. He had apparated a few streets away from the desired place; he wanted to tell Harry first, not knowing how he would react, not knowing if it was even his place to do what he was doing. 

“Do you know where we are?”

Harry had let go of his arm; he was looking around with big eyes and lips parted, like he was observing everythig around him and whatever he was seeing, it was failiar to him.

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“You mentioned, before we left Hogwarts, that you hadn’t -”

“You brought me to Godric’s Hollow.”

Draco nodded. 

Suddenly, there was a tear running down Harry’s face. It was such a small thing, but so unexpected, so sudden. His face hadn’t changed, but he was looking at Draco instead of looking around. 

“You remembered I hadn’t had the chance to come here this year.”

Draco nodded again but reached to touch Harry’s face - even though it wasn’t really his face. 

“I thought you’d want to see them, but if you’re not comfortable, we can go back.”

Harry was shaking his head, “No. No, I want to.”

 

The walk to the cemetery was a short one. Harry was walking close to Draco, looking around and breathing hard. 

“Last year I was so scared. Hermione and I found ourselves here and we were so tired, and cold, and hungry,” he shook his head and tugged at Draco’s sleeves. “I’d never paid much thought about where they were burried and then, all of a sudden, I was there, looking at them. It broke me a little.” Draco let Harry take his arm and squeezed it. “I know I haven’t told you about everything that happened during last year, but I want to, I swear. And I’m going to, eventually.”

“That’s okay. I haven’t told you everything about last year, either.”

“You mean your scars?”

Draco nodded, “Yes, but not just about that.”

Harry sighed, “We’ll get there.”

When they were in front of the gates, Harry stopped and produced flowers from the top of his wand. Then, he took Draco’s hand and walked in. Draco knew it had been a good idea to disguise themselves: there was a large crowd of people walking through the cemetery, and there were a few of them in front of the grave Harry had pointed out to him.

“That’s them.”

After a few minutes, the people left and Harry pulled Draco along. 

Laying down the flowers, Harry took a sep back and smiled sadly at Draco. His parents had been so young and seeing their ages in their tombstones broke Draco’s heart a little bit. He reached for Harry’s hand and kissed his cold fingers.

“Hi, mum. Hi, dad,” he spoke softly, his voice rasped and low. “This is Draco Malfoy. He’s my boyfriend.” He looked at Draco and then back. “I know he used to be the biggest git but...I like him. He’s nice to me,” he paused to wipe away the tears and went on, “I know it’s been a while since I was here, but I was busy. But look, I survived. You died for me and here I am, still living. Wherever you are, I hope you can rest now. I’m okay. I will be okay.”

He cleared his throat, wiped away his tears, and rested his head on Draco’s shoulders.

 

*

They spent the remainder of their Holiday either going out to Central London, visiting shops and walking around, or staying in. Even though Kreacher told Harry he’d be taking over the kitchen, more often than not, it was Harry that cooked for him. Draco had been angry and revolted when Harry told him the reason he cooked so well. He was angry at his uncle and aunt, at his cousin, at Dumbledore, at the world, in general. Harry had been a child forced to grow up too fast and no one did anything to help him. 

He was angry at himself, too. All those years he spent making fun of him and trying to hurt him. It all just seemed so senseless now.

On the last day before they had to leave for Hogwarts, Draco was sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for Harry to finish cooking their pancakes. Draco had cut up some fruit and laid the table and he was so hungry he was getting impatient. 

“Have you decided if you wana Floo to Hogwarts or catch the train?” Harry asked, not turning from where he was flipping what Draco hoped was the last pancake.

“I told you, whatever you decide is fine by me.”

“Yeah, but...I would like to know what you think.”

“It would be easier to just Floo there, but”, he said before Harry could interrupt, “is  _ is _ our last year.”

“We’ll still get to ride it at the end of the year, though.”

“Yes, I know.”

“But I will take the train if you do as well,” he turned with a plate full of pancakes and put it down o the table. 

“Are Hermione and Ron taking it with us?”

Harry was stacking Draco’s plate full of pancakes and fruit and honey. He refilled his tea and poured some milk on it and passed Draco the sugar.

“I’m not sure. They owled me a few days ago but they didn’t say anything about the train.”

“Do they know? I mean, have you told them?”

He looked at him, “About us?” Draco nodded. “No. I haven’t told them we’re together. I was expecting us to talk about it first.”

“Talk about it?”

“Yes, about what you want to do. Do you wanna go public? Do you just want to tell your mum and our friends?”

“Oh.” He turned to his plate and began eating.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”, asked Harry urgently, his food forgotten.

“No, yeah, I am, I just -”, he sighed, “These past few days, it was just you and me. I guess I forgot about everyone else.”

Harry smiled and gripped his shoulder, “I know what you mean. But if you’re not comfortable we can just keep this quiet for a while.”

“You -”, he cleared his throat, “you want to go public?”

“Yes. I mean, I would not like to hide us forever. But I understand why you’d want to keep this quiet.”

“It wouldn’t be forever, I promise.”

Harry pressed his lips to the side of his mouth, “I know.”

“You will get a lot of hate.”

Harry snorted and kissed his cheek, “I am really used to it.”

“No, it would be different. People would know about me.”

“I want them to know about you.”

He kissed his jaw.

“No, Harry, there would probably be threats and jinxes and people would say -”

“I think I remember us having this conversation before.”

“You didn’t listen to me, then.”

“And I am not listening to you now. Draco -,” he pushed his plate away from him and made Draco face him, “you are the best thing in my life right now. When I started this year I was sure I would give up, that I would up and leave in October, or something. I was lonely and depressed, and the only thing I did most of the time was play every one of my friends’ deaths in my head. I would wake up screaming and I couldn’t breathe, and I was sure Voldemort was still poiting his wand at me and that I was done for. But you were good to me, you were nice. You talked like it didn’t matter that so much death had been caused by me, you acted like my equal, like you needn’t walk around me, like you knew I wouldn’t break. And you let me do my own choices, you never pressed, you just knew when I wanted to talk and when I didn’t and you were just so  _ nice! _ I can’t even describe what it feels like to be with someone like you. It’s like you’re everything I need, everything I never knew I wanted. And you like me back.” 

He took a shudering breath and smiled at Draco.

“I can’t pinpoint the moment I knew I felt something for you; maybe it was when I saw you before the Wizengamot, all those Aurors around you, I just wanted to go down and take you away; or in the Manor; or in that fire. Maybe it was your letter after the Trial, or when you met me in London, because of your wand. But it started feeling like  _ something _ . And I knew I couldn’t break this something. It was so new and so different and scary. But exciting. It just seems impossible for me to think anyone would ever hate you for dating me because look how you make me feel.”

Their hands had found one another, and Draco was pulling Harry towards him, touching their lips together and holding the sides of his face.

“You are such a sap, Potter”, he whispered when he leaned out, resting their foreheads together. “You re willing to go through all of that? The press, the people, Hogwarts -”

“For you, yes.”

Draco shook his head, smiling, and kissed him some more.

 

*

“I think I could get used to this”, said Draco, hugging his coat to his body.

“What do you mean?”

“Wake up, have you cook me breakfast, go out to have lunch in London...it’s nice.”

Harry smiled and Draco’s chest tightened.

“It is nice. Waking up next to you, and cook breakfast for you, and walk around London with you. It’s quite nice”, said Harry, pulling on his sleeve and winking at him.

Draco blushed and bumped shoulders.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, sweetie pies! I'm sorry I was away for a while, real life caught up to me.   
> Hope you guys like this one and please leave a comment!

That night, when Draco was trying to make himself comfortable on the bed, Harry reached for his bedside table and got out a bag from the drawer.

“Here, this is for you.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “What is this?”

Harry shrugged and leaned back on his pillow, “Nothing special. I just -”

Draco reached inside and pulled out a stack of pictures. “Oh, it’s us!”

“Yes, it’s our pictures from this holiday.”

Draco couldn’t take his eyes away from them. Harry spent a great deal of time with the camera in his hands, snapping at everything: Draco in front of building or in front of shadows (because Harry fancied himself an artist); their food; pictures of the Thames and bridges. But there were a lot of them. Draco had experienced with the camera and some of the pictures he recognized as his since the majority were of Harry’s face and his laugh and his hands. 

“When did you do this?”

“I asked Hermione if she could do it for me.”

“Oh, Harry, this is…”

“Lame? Merlin, I’m sorry, I -” Draco kissed him. And kissed him. He blindly put down the photographs on the bedside table and reached for Harry, drawing him closer to him. He touched his his lips to Harry, looming over him, pinning him to the bed, his hands reaching under his shirt to touch at the soft hairs on Harry’s chest. He felt Harry’s hands on his back, and he hooked one knee behind Draco’s legs, pulling him even closer. Draco reached for his glasses in mid kiss and took them off, pulling them aside. He ran his tongue along Harry’s lips, and bit his lower lip, stealing a moan from Harry’s mouth that was muffled in the kiss.

Harry was writhing beneath him, pulling at his shirt and touching his neck to make Draco kiss him deeper. His breathing was ragged, and he was  _ hard _ : Draco felt little shocks of pleasure every time he arched off the bed and their bodies touched and rubbed together.

Suddenly there was too many clothes in the way, and it seemed Harry was thinking the same thing because he was tugging at Draco shirt and slidding his hand and shirt up.

“Off,” said Harry breathlessly, trying to pull the shirt from Draco’s body.

Draco complied. He lifed one arm, and then the other and then leaned down on the bed to kiss Harry’s torso. He pulled his shirt up, bit by bit, while placing small kisses to Harry’s sides while his hands wandered. Harry had his hands on Draco’s hair, tugging, back arched and his eyes closed, his hair spilling on the pillow. 

Draco didn’t think it possible for Harry to be even more beautiful, but at this moment, he had never seen anything more intoxicating: Harry Potter moaning at his touches and his kisses. He couldn’t help the smile nor the tugging at his heart; seeing Harry so carefree, letting Draco touch his body and seeing his body respond to the touch.... He was mesmerized.

He slid the shirt off easily; Harry lifted his arms and hooked them around Draco’s head, pulling him in for a kiss and hooking both legs around him. The sudden contact of their hot skins made Draco melt to the touch and he couldn’t help the soft moan and the way his hands curled around Harry’s body. 

Their kisses were becoming messy and uncoordinated: Harry tugging at his lower lip and Draco’s tongue searching his, both of them wanting everything this fire was demanding. Draco left Harry’s mouth to run his tongue along his jaw, and them his neck, sucking small, purple bruises to Harry’s neck. There were still quite a few of them there, but he was sure Harry would vanish them for tomorrow; they were keeping their relationship a secret. But Draco loved them with a burning passion, he loved seeing the little bruises and know he had put them there because Harry like them, he liked it every time Draco sucked a little harder and held his body close o him; he’d arch his back and touch their hips together and pull at his hair, gasping. And he was doing that now, while Draco sucked and licked at his favourite spot above the collar bone.

“Dr - Draco.”

Draco hummed in response, not wanting to leave this spot ever again.

“Could you,” he gasped when Draco bit into his shoulder, “Fuck, could we take these off?”

He was touching their underpants and tugging them. When Draco lifted his head to look at him, his eyes were closed and his lips parted.

_ I am so fucked _ , he thought.

“You sure? We can just keep doing this, I’m fine like this if you -”

“No, I want them off.” He pointedly looked at him and nodded his head, tugging at his clothes again.

Draco nodded and dislodged himself from Harry to take his pajama pants off. 

“No, everything.”

Harry was looking at him intensely, propped up on his elbows.

“Everything?”

He nodded.

“No, I think we should go slowly.”

“But -”

“If you want to take them off later, I will. But for now I think we should leave them on.”

Harry looked at him and frowned, but after a moment his face cleared and he nodded.

Draco moved to Harry’s body and grabbed his hips, “Can I?”. He motioned for Harry to lift his hips and he slid down his pajamas.

He placed kissed on the inside of Harry’s legs, all the way up to his inner thighs, alternating between legs. Harry had gone very quite, looking down at him and grabbing at the sheets with his hands. Draco took one of his hands in his when he kissed a place closer to Harry’s crotch and he heard a sudden intake of breath. Harry had spread his legs wider and he looked so open, so inviting, Draco felt like crying at how much this boy he had hurt so much trusted him. 

He bit at the soft skin and touched his fingers to the area around. He knew what Harry wanted, but he wasn’t sure he was ready for that, no matter how much Draco was aching to pull his boxers down and mouth at him. He wanted things to be perfect, for Harry to feel comfortable and relaxed, for Harry to want it with absolutely certainty and as much as Draco wanted it. Because,  _ Merlin _ , did Draco want him. Anything Harry would want to give him, or do to him, or let Draco do to him, he was willing.

He lifted his head from his thighs and looked at Harry, “If you ever want me to stop, you tell me, alright?”

Harry’s eyes were glazed over, his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he still nodded.

Draco nodded back and lifted Harry’s legs so he could have better access to the skin around Harry’s cock. He was afraid he would touch him accidentally and scare him off. But Harry looked so excited, so blissed out, Draco was sure he would not oppose to that. But still, he was comitted to take things slow and give Harry time to tell him no, if he wanted to.

He moved from the inside on his thigh to the outer side, and kept kissing his skin, just below his belly button, nosing at the dark hair there, a few shades darker than his skin. 

Draco moved to nib at Harry’s nipple, one hand touching his sides and teasing at the skin around his boxers. When he licked one nipple, Harry gasped and let out a hissed ‘ _ Shit’  _ and his hands went to Draco’s hair, holding him in place while he sucked and bit and licked at one nipple. 

Draco was glad he was the one doing this because had he been on the receiving line, he would have probably come by now. Not that Harry seemed that very far from coming himself, but Draco was sure he wouldn’t have gotten past the kissing on the thighs. 

“Draco.”

“Tell me.”

Harry seemed so out of breath, so wrecked, Draco just wanted to touch him some more, see how far he’d take it.

“Touch me,” he said, though Harry said it as a question, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask.

“You sure?”

Harry looked at him and nodded. “I will tell you if I want to stop, I promise,” he said reassuringly.

Draco kissed him. He kissed Harry like he was air and he was drowning. He was sure he would never get over how kissing Harry felt, like it could make Draco whole, like he was a better person because of it, that somehow things would be okay.

“Harry, turn over,” he whispered in his ear.

“Turn over?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you-”

“I’m not doing anything too -,” he struggled to find a word, “-  _ forward _ .” 

Harry just pushed slightly at Draco’s chest to push him off him so he could turn. He rested his head on his hands and let out a soft sigh.

Draco braced his lower back with his legs and let his hands touch at his back, massaging the muscles and the knots on Harrys neck, and, at one point, leaning sown to kiss his back. All of his back. He strated at a mole he had on his neck and decided to kiss every one of them on his way down, before coming up again and run his hands alongside his shoulder blades and his ribs. 

He moved to kneel between Harry’s legs and ran his hands along the soft hair of his legs. He wasn’t sure Harry was aware he was moving his hips, pushing them down towards the bed, creating friction, but it was such a good sight, Draco had to look away and focus on the task at hand. His own cock was twitching and leaking and he wanted nothing more than to touch himself and come. And he was sure it wouldn’t take that long.

Draco touched the fabric of Harry’s boxers and started to slide them down, slowly, watching out for any reaction from Harry, but he seemed so content and willing he was already trying to get them off himself.

“I’ll do it,” Draco said softly.

He slid them off, the fabric getting caught at the front, on Harry’s cock. Draco swallowed hard but took them off himself and told Harry not to turn yet.

He leaned dow to kiss the small of his back and slowly let his hands wander further down, towards Harry’s ass. He squeezed his cheeks lightly and he heard Harry’s muffled groan and his hips rattle against the matress.

He kissed his way down, kissing his cheeks and bitting down a bit, sometimes sucking a small bruise there. He was sure he could do this untill he came but Harry was already lifting his hips up and trying to touch himself.. Draco smiled.

“You’re very impatient, aren’t you? I should have known.”

Harry huffed and stopped trying to reach for his cock, “You would be, too, in my situation, so shut up.”

He chuckled and smacked a kiss to Harry’s ass, right between his cheeks. It had the intended effect: Harry lifted his hips and cried out ‘ _ Fuck, Draco!”. _ Draco laughed and showered his cheecks and inner thighs with kisses untill Harry was rutting against the matress so shamelessly, Draco thought it was time he did somehting about it.

“Turn.”

Harry did. There was a light shimmer to his forehead, and he was breathing hard. Draco pulled himself up and kissed his lips softly.

“Can I touch you?”

“I thought I had asked that already.”

Draco kissed his jaw, “Yes, but...can I touch you with my mouth?”

“Fuck,  _ Draco _ !”

Harry looked on the verge of coming, his hand went to his dick to squeeze hard at the base and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Draco was still looming over him and looking him in the eyes. 

“Yes, you fucking moron, you can. Merlin!”

Draco grinned and kissed the smile on Harry’s lips. 

“I have never done this before, though,” Draco confessed.

“Oh, well, if you’re not ready we can -”

“No, I want to. I’m just saying that it’s my first time so if I do anything wrong -”

“I’ll love it all the same because it’s you touching me,” finished Harry.

_ This boy _ , Draco thought, touching their foreheads together. After a few moments, Draco resumed his kissing, being very thorough with Harry’s mouth and then moving along his body, kissing his jaw, hisneck, his sides and the small trail of hair going all the way down, disappearing under his boxers. 

When he reached his hip bones, Draco looked up and found Harry staring at him, his hair disheveled, and taking sharp breaths. Draco burried his nose in Harry’s thigh and smiled. 

And he looked. And  _ looked _ . Harry was completely naked, his cock dripping at the slit, so hard it pained Draco to look. Harry was so fucking  _ beautiful _ , Draco just wanted to take him in his mouth until he came fucking his throat. 

“Merlin, Harry.”

Then he touched him. He let his fingers wander softly on hi cock; he saw the goosebumps form on his legs and arms, and he saw Harry arch his back and make a chocked voice at the back of his throat. This was too much. Harry with his cick hard, and dark, and flushed, moving at every touch Draco applied to him, smiling, with his eyes closed, when he leaned in to nose at the hair at the base … Now Draco understood why people did crazy things for love.

“Harry,” he said hoarsely, “tell me if you want to stop.”

Harry just snorted and looked down at him, “Shoot me if I do.”

“No, I’m serious. If you’re not -”

“I know,” said Harry, and he squeezed his hand.

Draco kissed his thigh in response. 

Harry’s cock was… something he had thought about way too many times, he had to admit. But having him so near, so close to him, it was making Draco dizzy with want. Kissing his way around Harry’s cock, he slowly got closer to the base. He licked tentively at Harry’s base, pressing his tongue to the dark vein there. Harry closed his fist around the sheets and Draco knew he was trying hard not to arch his back and just push himself inside Draco’s mouth.

Draco loved it.

Grabbing him softly, he moved his tongue up, towards the tip, in a slow drag of tongue. He dug his fingers around Harry’s hip to keep him from moving, and licked his head. The moan that escaped Harry’s mouth was the most obscene thing Draco ever heard, and he wanted more. Slowly closing his lips around the head, Draco sucked a little, and licked. Harry kept making the same sound while digging his fingernails in Draco’s forearms. Holding him tight, he allowed his jaw to relax and moved his head down, slowly, whily licking and sucking him. 

Harry was… big. Draco had only himself to compare with, but Harry was thicker than him though not as big. He hoped he could take Harry all the way, but it  _ was  _ his first time, and Harry already seemed to be enjoying himself greatly. He was shamelessly trying to rock his hips forward, to make Draco take him further into his mouth, and Draco tried, being extra careful since breathing was hard and he didn’t want to choke around Harry and make a fool of himself. But he was so turned on, so excited he was actually doing this with Harry,  _ to _ Harry, he wasn’t that bothered he might choke and have to start again. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t take Harry all the way down, but Harry’s hands let go of his arm and were burried in his hair, coaxing Draco to take him deeper, helping him find the rythm and the right angle, but still petting his hair, touching the side of his face...it was all too much, his chest felt like it was about to expload. And through everything, Harry was moaning, this low little wimper, that sometimes dragged and echoed across the room. At ne point, he started moaning Draco’s name and Draco almost lost it. His rythm faultered and he had to come up for air and to look up at him, but Harry looked so blissed out, eyes closed and face and neck flushed red, Draco just looked down and took him in his mouth again, as far as he could, and picked up the pace.

A few moments after, Harry grabbed his shoulders, painfully hard, and was trying to pull him off of him.

“D- ah,” he cursed and squeezed his shoulder again, “Draco, I’m gonna,  _ fuck,  _ I’m really close -”

Draco realizd he  _ was _ going to come and was trying to warn Draco so he wouldn’t come in his mouth. Letting go of Harry’s thigh, he reached for Harry’s hands and held them, while trying to take him all the way down, keeping the rythm. He could feel the moment Harry was about to orgasm: his body seized, he took a sharp intake of breath and then he was moaning, this soft little moan, with his head thrown back and lips parted.

Draco tried his best to swallow everything. He was mostly afraid off the taste but, just as Harry’s scent, it didn’t bother him one bit; he was marvelled at the fact he had made Harry Potter orgasm with his mouth and had just swallowed his cum.

He could still hear Harry coming down from the high, breathing hard. He rest his head on Harry’s thigh and smilled.

 

*

Neither Harry nor Draco felt very inclined to wake up the next morning. Though they both had to be ready to leave by ten thirty if they wanted to catch the train like they were meant to, they felt like cuddling and placing kisses on each other’s faces was vastly more important. And so they did. 

Harry had been in an incredible mood ever since waking up, not even saying a word when Kreacher barged into the room with two floating trays behind him wih their breakfasts. They thanked him and he left. 

“You know, last night…”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Harry put down his fork to drink from his cup and averted Draco’s raised eyebrow.

“Are you thanking me for giving you an orgasm?”

Harry’s eyes turned to him and a smile creeped up on his face, “Yeah, I am.”

“I hope I get to do that again.”


	16. Chapter 16

They go to the Platform 9/3 with just a few minutes to spare. They ran past parents and siblings waving at their families on the Hogwarts Express and got inside the train just on time. Harry had his eyes closed, back against the door, trying to catch his breath.

“Next time, don’t let me convince you to a last minute make out session,” he said smiling at Draco.

Draco laughed.

They set out to look for Hermione and Ron. There were people in the corridors, talking to each other and showing each other what they got for Christmas. Some of them greeted Harry and most of them completely ignored Draco. Some looks still lingered on him, walking so close to Harry, talking softly from time to time. He knew Harry was looking around for any odd behaviours or any attacks that could possibly occur. But Draco knew no one would ever attack him in front of him.

Hermione and Ron were farther down the train. Ron had his feet propped on the set in front of him and Hermione had her head on his shoulder and they were talking quietly. Harry knocked before going in.

“Harry!” Hermione dislodged herself from Ron and threw her arms around Harry. Draco smiled at the picture. He was so glad Harry had them both. Ron indicated the seat opposite him to Draco and he sat down, shaking Ron’s hand. When Hermione let go of Harry, Ron stood up and hugged him too.

“Hi, Draco.”

“Hullo, Hermione,” said Draco smiling at her, “Had a good Christmas?”

Harry sat next to him. Right _next_ to him, sitting so close Draco could feel the heat coming from him.

“Yes, we did. When Harry left we went to see my parents and then Teddy.”

“Oh, you saw Teddy?”, asked Harry with a smile on his face.

Draco’s heart felt like powering a city.

 

*

 

After the lunch lady passed, they were all eating sweets and laughing at a joke Ron had told when Hermione cleared her throat and looked pointedly at the both of them.

“What,” asked Harry.

“We were waiting for you to say something but…”

“About what?”

Ron snorted and looked out the window.

“Well, how much time did you have this morning to look at your neck?”

Draco’s heart sped up and he turned to Harry. _Shit._

“I thought you were getting rid of them!”

Harry hand went to his neck, his lips parted and eyes wide. “I forgot!”

Ron and Hermione smirked.

“I can’t believe you were walking around like that and didn’t even notice,” Ron said.

Harry made a stangled noise and turned to Draco, “You could have told me.”

“I didn’t notice!”

“You didn’t notice them this morning?!”

Draco rolled his eyes, “You were the one who convinced me to a morning make out session right before we had to leave!”

“Oh, my god,” said Ron, with a horror look on his face.

*

 

“So, you want to keep this in secret?”

Draco nodded to Hermione, “It’s sill very new, I don’t want things to be over before they even begin.”

Hermione smiled, “Harry likes you, I can tell.”

Draco blushed and looked at him across the library. They had been back for a week, but having neglected their work during the holiday, they had spent their first week back piled underneath homework and late assignments. Harry was with Ron finding a book for Hermione and she took the opportunity to ask why they had chosen to keep their relationship a secret for now. 

Draco was comfortable with Hermione and Ron knowing, Harry trusted them completely, and so did he. 

“And I like him.”

“You’re afraid they will hate you and Harry.”

He shook his head, “They already hate me, Hermione. But they love Harry. And I’m afraid he’ll see what I could do to him with everyone knowing about us and he’ll want to get out.”

“Draco…”

“I know. It’s stupid. It’s Harry. If anyone would be brave enough to date me and tell everyone to fuck off it’d be Harry. But I can’t shake the feeling.”

“Maybe you should tell him that. I think he’s under the impression you just need time to tell you mother and get used to the idea.”

“I am very used to the idea. Harry… well, he’s something else. I don’t know how I got so lucky, I swear, Hermione. Every time I look at him I think of everything I did to him, and to you, and I wonder why he likes me. But then he kisses me and it’s like everything will be okay.”

Hermione reached across the table and squeezed his hand, “Draco, don’t make me punch you again.”

He snorted and looked down.

“Look, I know it’s scary, but it feels like that in every relationship. And maybe dating Harry will be harder and people will hate you and tell Herry to leave you and tell him he’s been bewitched or hexed or... _ whatever _ . But Harry has never paid any attention to what anyone says. Trust me. I’ve been his friend for seven years and it’s still hard for him to listen to me. But he loves me. And being on the receiving line of that love, Draco, is so worth it. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. And Ron. And I know he’d fight for us and do anything in his power to keep us safe. The point is, Draco, when Harry decides he likes you, he’ll never let go. He’ll defend you and protect you untill he dies. Literally.” She smiles and shakes her head fondly. “I think you’ll find that when you do talk to him, he’ll just brush your worries aside and tell you everything is going to be okay. And I think you should listen to him, Draco. Because I do think it will be.”

She looked down at her work but looked up again. “I know he’s not okay. Before we came back, I used to wake up with him sreaming. And sometimes I woke him up with mine. And Ron, too. The War took something from us all. But I think it took something bigger from Harry. I was sure we would lose him at one point. And then, one day, he came home and told us he had gone and meet you in Muggle London and you didn’t hurt each other in any way or form. He spoke for hours, about what you said, how he felt when he saw you, about the war...I don’t know, but I think he changed a bit that day. And I think you helped. He told me later that if he could see you and talk to you and think you could form a friendship, even after everyhting, than maybe it was worth it.”

“He told me that when I asked why he sent the first owl.”

Hermione nodded, “Yes. At first, both Ron and I were reticent. About...all of it. But you answered. And you met and it was fine. There were still nightmares. There still are. I think it was good he left The Burrow, he was getting worse with Molly crying and George -” she stopped talking and looked at Ron who was still pulling books from the shelves. “It was hard. But I haven’t seen him this happy since...well, since sixth year. But even then he was not this carefree.”

“Hermione, I  _ really  _ liked him,” he said in a rush, looking at her, willing her to understand what was happening in his heart. How Harry made everything less dull, less sharp, how he made Draco softer and kinder. “If I fuck this up...I don’t know.”

She smiled and nodded her head, “I know. I feel the same about Ron.”

He smiled back. 

“It took us a long time, didn’t it Draco?”

“I think it was worth it. For him.”

“He is. And you are, too.” She took his hand again. “Talk to him. Tell him how you feel, tell him what you’re worrying about. And if you decide to go public or just easy everyone into it, know that we all have your backs.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you lovely people like this chapter! Please leave me a comment or some Kudos!

Coming back to Hogwarts as Harry Potter’s boyfriend was something Draco never thought possible. Even though only Ron and Hermione knew about them, it made Draco happy knowing that no matter how bad of a day he had, Harry would be there, curling in bed (either his bed or Draco’s), waiting for him and kissing his worries away.

Their workload was getting out of hands. Harry and Draco would meet Hermione and Ron in the library and work untill Miss Pince kicked them out. Having Hermione work with him, and help him when he was stuck was a huge blessing. He had thanked Hermione for ten minutes straight when she helped him understand an Arithmancy problem that had been bothering him for two days.

He still met with Neville and he was so proud to see him improve and actually performing well in Potions that everytime he got a question right in class he’d turn to Harry and smile. Neville had been a challenge, at first, but lately he was talking to Draco in class and at mealtimes, when he decided to join Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Slytherin table. Nevile was easy to talk to and he didn’t mind to listen to him talk about this or that plant, and was extremely happy for him when Professor Sprout asked him to help her with the class.

Life was...good. He still had to talk to Harry, though. At night, when they were curling around one another, his back flushed against Harry’s front, Harry kissing his neck and touching his stomach, he’d say something and he knew Harry was trying to talk to him about coming out, about telling everyone about them. And he wanted to, he really did. But he was also so scared. Liking Harry was...it was not just _liking_ anymore. Whatever they had, whatever this was between them, it was so good, so pure, Draco’s heart felt like it could explode. Waking up every morning and being able to look at Harry, sleeping, looking so peaceful, so relaxed, Draco never wanted that to stop.

But he knew they had to talk.

Two weeks after coming back, he knocked on Harry’s door and came in.

“Hi!” Harry got up from the bed to kiss him and then pulled him down with him. “Ready to call it a night? I can’t seem to finish this essay, anyway.”

Draco nodded. “I wanted to talk first, though.”

“Oh,” he sat up straighter and looked at Draco, “alright.”

“It’s nothing bad,” he reached for Harry’s hand and squeezed it, “just something I’ve been thinking and Hermione said I should talk to you.”

“You’ve been talking to Hermione?!”

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Well, I know you talk about homework and stuff but…”

“I guess we bonded over you,” he smiled and Harry shoved him. “No, but really, she’s a really good person. She’s been really patient and nice to me.”

“That is Hermione.”

“It makes me feel even worse because of...everything.”

“You did apologize to her. And Ron. And Luna and Neville.”

“Yes, I know,” he shook his head and looked down at their hands. “I still can’t believe Luna patted my cheek in front of everyone and told me it was okay.” Harry chuckled. “It’s just that, it _was_ me who said and did all those things. I know I changed, I’m trying at least, to be better, to recognize my mistakes and to apologize for them. But getting to know them, Harry...It made me hate myself.”

“Oh, hey.” He sat closer to Draco and pulled him close, hugging his body close.

Draco sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. But I still have to come to terms with everything, even if you already have.”

Harry leaned back to look at him. “I am well aware of what you’ve done. I know. But...this, between us, this is good because you’re good. In a way, you’ve always been. Prejudiced, yes. And a little bitch, sometimes. But there is good in you. And you’re aware that you’re prejudiced and that you were wrong. I can’t ask for more than that. No one can.”

“But they do, And that’s where I wanted to get at. This between us, I know you want us to go public.”

“I do,” he said smiling.

“But you know I have my reservayions about it.”

“Yes, your mother and…”

Draco interrupeted him. “No,” he shook his head, “not just my mother.”

Harry frowned, “Yeah, and you’re scared about the death threats and the media and everyone here at Hogwarts.”

“Well. Yes.”

“Draco,” said Harry, exasperated, “I know what you’re gonna say. And you know what I’m gonna say. So let’s not.”

“Harry, this is something that _will_ happen.”

“Yes, I know, and I don’t care, you kow I don’t.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake. Draco, we have been through this. Do you think I haven’t thought about this before? I have thought this through when we met for coffee, way back in July and thought this through when I sat with you in class, and when I asked you to sleep here, when I held you that first night, when you were in the hospital because some _fucking cowards_ attacked you _because_ of me, and I thought this through when I asked you to come and stay at my place. Merlin, Draco...this,” he tugged at Draco’s hand, “between us, is real. I am not running away just because people I don’t even know have a problem with me liking you. I am not! And I’m tired of people pushing me to do things they think are right for me. You are right for me, if anyone has a problem with that, then fuck them.”

Draco was silent for a few moments, watching Harry get his breathing under control, watching as his chest expanded ans contracted with every breath he took. He was still holding Draco’s hands, running small circles around his palms.

He sighed, “I knew you were going to say that.”

“Does,” he cleared his throat, “does that upset you?”

“That Harry Potter is willing to fight for me?”

“I’m always willing to fight for you.”

“And fight with me.”

“Also that, yes,” he teased.

Draco took a deep breath and looked Harry in the eyes, “Alright. I’m going to tell my mother, then.”

“Really?”

Draco smiled at the hopeful tone in Harry’s voice. “Really. Tomorrow morning I’ll go and send her an owl, I promise.”

Harry smiled, that tiny little smile Draco loved so much and climbed onto his lap to kiss him.

“Can I start telling people?”

“Maybe ease them into it?

“How so?”

“Maybe don’t kiss me in front of everyone at breakfast tomorrow?”

Harry looked at him, wide-eyed, “How did you know I was meaning to do that?”

Draco just rolled his eyes. “It’s your way of doing things. I know.”

“Oh, my god.”

When Harry was done laughing, he kissed Draco’s neck and sucked a big hickey right under his jaw.

“Remember me to heal that in the morning.”

“I like them, though.”

“Is that how you want to tell them? A giant hickey on my neck?”

Harry huffed a laugh and pushed Draco back, and, lifting his shirt, started kissing his stomach. “That would actually be quite brilliant, wouldn’t it?”

Draco swallowed hard when Harry kissed one of his nipples and grabbed hard at his hips, “Yeah, they’d die trying to figure out who’d come close enough to me to actually kiss my neck.”

“I bet the eigth years would now, though.”

Draco gasped when Harry pushed his hips down to touch Draco.

“Neville would, for sure. He keeps bumping into me when I leave in the morning.”

Harry hummed and sucked at his earlobe, “Can I take your shirt off?”

Draco reached down to grab at the hem and pulled it off. Harry smiled down at him and resumed with the kissing. Since leaving Grimmauld Place, they hadn’t had a chance to do this, anymore. School work and catching up with their friends left them exhausted and when they got in bed, at night, they would cuddle and talk and kiss, but they’d fall asleep almost immediately.

After talking to Harry, a weight lifted off his shoulders; he had a goal now, he had made up his mind. They were telling people and, even though he was still scared, it was also a little bit exciting.

Harry kissed his lips again, more urgently this time, tugging at his bottom lip and moving his head in order to deepen the kiss. Draco’s hands went to Harry’s chest, sliding his hands underneath his shirt and toucing at the layer of muscle there.

Suddenly, Harry lifted off from him, “Can I touch you, today?”

Draco’s brain took a while to catch up, “Touch me?”

“Yeah, “said Harry, breathlessly, “Take your clohes off and...touch you.”

“Yes.” He tried not to sound so eager but failed miserably. He was already hard, his jeans suddenly too tight and his body too hot.

Harry kissed him, sliding his tongue inside his mouth to touch at his lips and his tongue and then Harry himself was moving down, dropping kisses all over Draco’s body, catching his nipple in his teeth and biting down, softly.  Draco moaned. Who knew this would feel so good? He spent such a long time feeling miserable that any touch of affection would be amazing but having Harry touch him, knowing how he felt about him...it was exhilarating. It made Draco want to kiss him, push him against the bed and take him again in his mouth.

But Harry was nosing at his groing and Draco forgot all about that.

“Can I take these off?”

Draco found the strength to look down at Harry’s bright and green eyes and nod.

Harry took the time unbuttoning his jeans. One by one, he popped them open, and, touching Draco’s thigh to make him lift his hips from the bed, he slid them down his legs, past his knees and off of him.

“I didn’t get a chance to see you, last time,” he said in a low voice, staring a Draco’s crotch.

Draco snorted, “You were out before you could.”

“I was not!”

Draco opened his mouth to fight back but Harry suddenly pulled his own shirt off and over his head and leaned down to kiss Draco.

“Now you’re just distracting me,” he said between kisses.

“It’s working, isn’t it.”

Moving down again, Harry showered his chest with kisses, starting from a point on his chest and ending right above his hips. Draco knew what he was doing: it was not the first time Harry touched the scars on his chest, and he knew he’d have to have that conversation sooner or later.

“I’m taking these off, now. Is that okay?”

Draco nodded and when Harry pulled his boxers down, he felt a sudden coolness and his cock touching his stomach. It felt _good_.

“Merlin, fuck,” exclaimed Harry, loudly.

“What? What happened?”

“Just, look at you. I think I could come right now.”

Draco let his head fall on the pilow and smiled, “Please do that afterwards.”

“Have you looked at yourself?”

“What?” He pushed himself on his elbows to look at Harry. He was sitting between Draco’s legs and was staring shamelessy at his cock.

“How come you walked around Slytherin like that and no one took the opportunity to jump your bones?”

Draco snorted. “Are you serious, right now?”

“Just,” he made a movement with his hand to Draco’s body and finally looked at his face, “I can’t get enough of you, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco’s face split in a smile and pulled Harry to him with his legs, “You’d probably get enough of me if you’d just touch me.”

“I need to get out of my clothes first, though.”

He pushed himself off of Draco again and stripped naked in front of him.

“Better.”

Draco just smiled at him and let himself be kissed senseless by Harry. Draco wasn't sure if kissing other boys always ffelt like this but he was positive he'd never feel like this kissing anyone ever again. Every inch of his body, wherever Harry touched him, was alight. The trail of kisses left by Harry, from his throat to his pale chest, made him feel like he was made out of glass, that Harry could break him with his mouth, kill him with all the kindness he was showing Draco with his hands and his lips, and Draco would just  _let him_. Because he was certain nothing would ever feel like this.

"Are you okay?" questioned Harry, breathlessly.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Can I-"

"Yes!"

"If you want me to stop, you can just-"

"Yes," he nodded and looked down at him, kneeling between his legs, eyes bright and his gingers arounf his hips, "yes, I know."

He nodded back and mouthed at a strip of skin close to his groin. Draco's back involuntarily arched off the bed and he grabbed at the sheets. 

"You know," he said between breaths, "people have been doing this for ages while we were worried sick because of the war."

"Sucking each other's cocks?!" Harry lifted his head and looked at Draco with a smug look on his face.

"You're not actually suck-" he rolled his eyes. "No, Potter, just...dating. Kissing between breaks and meeting to do, well,  _this_."

Harry smiled and kissed his inner thigh, slowly making his way towards Draco's cock. He was trying really hard not to think about it. But he could feel his breath ghosting over his skin, and his fingers touching every inch of skin they could reach.

"You are right."

"Always am," Draco answered. 

Harry sucked a bruise on his inner thigh.

"Someone had to be worrying about the war, though."

"We should have just left and let them handle it."

"Them?" Harry asked. 

Draco was about to answer but Harry decided to touch at the sensitve skin under his balls and all prospects of thought left Draco's brain. He was sure he was moaning but his ears were ringing and he shut his eyes. Harry pressed his palm there, keeping preassure and dragging it up, squeezing the balls and dropping the hand before touching his cock. 

Draco let out a frustrated sigh.

"Who is them, Draco?" Harry asked again, voice hoarse.

"Them?" Draco lost all track of conversation.

"You said we should have left and let  _them_ handle it."

"Oh. Snape. Dumbledore. Them."

"Hum."

Harry moved so he could get more comfortable. And the Draco felt his ongue ghosting over the tip of his cock.

"Holy,  _fuck_!" He was sure he had never felt this  _good_ , this turned on, this excited. He let his hand drop on Harry's hair, brushing it off his face and pulling at it, slightly.

Harry just stared at him, lips touching him and, while still maintaining eye contact, he slowly moved his head down, his tongue touching the skin there an his lips stretching around Draco's cock.

" _Fuck._ Fuck. Fuck." He tried to slow his breathing and he tried to think of something else entirely. But Harry was still trying to take him all in - on his first time, the idiot- and he had a hand grabbing and pulling at his balls. He was almost certain he was going to come in the next minute or so.

"Harry." He should be ashamed, really, of how he sounded: so wrecked and lost and Harry had only just touched him.

" _Harry_ ," he said more urgently. 

Harry responded by applying more pressure and sucking at the tip. 

" _Fuck_ ," he breathed out. He could feel a bead of sweat rolling from his temple and his sticking to his skin. He was  _not_ going to last. "Harry, I'm close.  _Really_ close."

He tried to move, he wasn't sure he could come in Harry's mouth -  _fuck! Harry's mouth-_ and he didn't want to do that if Harry wasn't into it. But Harry wasn't budging,

"Harry, I'm-" Harry decided to take that as an incentive and worked harder. He grabbed at one of Draco's thigh and tried to take more of Draco into his mouth. 

Draco came suddenly with a moan and jerk of his body. For a moment all he could feel was the wave of pleasure washing over him and the heat and wetness around his cock. 

Slowly he came to his senses. Harry was looming over him, his dark skin gleaming with sweat and a smug look on his face.

"We should definitely do this again," he said. And then kissed Draco's blissed out face.

*

 

At breakfast the following day, Harry sat with Hermione and Ron at the Gryffindor table because Draco was finishing his letter to his mother. By the time he got to the Great Hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione were leaving.

“Hey,” said Harry. Both Hermione and Ron greeted him, as well, but moved on, hurrying to get to class.

“I’m just going to eat something and I’ll be there in a bit,” Draco said, moving towards the Slytherin table.

Harry shook his head. “No, I’ll wait with you.”

“No, you don’t have-”

“Of course I don’t, you idiot, I just want to.” Grabbing his arm, he guided him to the table and sat with him. “You sent the letter?”

Draco nodded and started piling some toast on his plate while Harry poured him a cup of tea and some milk.

“Do you think she’ll get back to you or...just ignore it?”

Draco looked at him sideways while biting into his toast. “Are you scared, Potter?”

He snorted. “You wish.”

But Draco could feel his anxiety and see the worry in his eyes and in the way he looked at him and folded his hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, trying to reasure him. “She’s going to be ecstatic.”

“Because her son is dating the Saviour of the Wizarding World?” Harry said playfully.

“I’m not even dignifying you with an answer, Potter.” Harry just scooted closer to him and smiled.

“I’m writing a letter to my father, as well.”

“Lucius?”

“That’s the only father I have, so yes.”

Harry was playing with a napkin and was not looking at him. Draco finished his toast and got up, touching Harry’s shoulder and urging him to move on or they’d be late.

Harry was moving but was not looking at him; eyes cast low and a frown on his face.

“I have to, Harry,” he declared in a hushed voice while they walked through the corridors.

“I know.”

“You did ask me to do this. That’s what I’m doing.”

He nodded. “I know that. It’s just,” he paused and sighed,”it’s Lucius.”

“He is still my father. And even if I don’t write to him, he’ll know, eventually. He’s in Azkaban, not dead. News will travel, and they’ll travel fast once people know about us.” Harry was nodding along but still with a shadow over his face.

Draco put a hand on his arm and stopped him. “Harry, this is what you asked of me. Do you really want to do this or not? Because if it isn’t, just tell me.”

Harry looked at him and took his hand, stepping closer; the corridor was empty and Draco was sure they were late.

“I wanna do this. Write you father. That is not why I’m upset.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“Do you think he’ll be against this? I mean,” he pulled at his hand, “against us?”

“Oh. Yes,” Draco said earnestly.

“Oh.”

“But I can live with that. He can’t do a thing to harm you. Or me. Anymore. And my mother will probably find a way to make him see reason.”

“Right.”

“Harry,” he stepped closer and touching his fingers to his face, tipping his head up, “we’re doing this. Like you said," he shrugged, "we’ve had worse.”

Harry smiled and wrapped his hands around Draco’s torso, meeting Draco for a kiss.

“We sure did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, do you usually listen to music while writing? What sort of music/bands do you listen to?


	18. Chapter 18

Later on in the week, Draco’s mother sent him a letter. He was siting alone at the Slytherin table, Harry was with the Gryffindor’s talking about Luna’s birthday next month. 

Draco took the letter from the owl and put it on the table. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He wasn’t sure what would make him happy. 

He pocketed the letter so he and Harry could read it together, later.

 

“My mother sent me a letter.”

Harry lifted his eyes from his work and looked at him. They were studying at the library; Hermione had insisted they should spend the rest of the day revising, so they’d have a free Saturday. They complained but agreed, at the end. Neville and Luna were sitting next to him, and Harry was on his right side. 

He leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I was thinking we could read it together.” 

Harry’s bright eyes were looking right into his. He turned back to the table and closed his book, as well as Draco’s.

“We’re taking a little break,” he announced to the others, and pulled Draco with him.

“You know,” Draco pointed out, “they’ll be thinking we left to make out.”

“Let them.” He signaled to a bench near a window and dragged him along.

“Want to open it?”

Draco took the letter out of his pocket and rested it in his legs. “No point in avoiding this, is there?”

Harry placed a hand on his knee and Draco opened the letter, breaking the wax seal. He leaned into Harry so he could read it, too.

 

_ Dear Draco, _

_ This is such wonderful news! I am so pleased to know you and Harry are now together; I can not even begin to explain how that calms my heart and makes me think you’ll be safe after all.  _

_ Harry is a good person; he’s been far too kind with us and I am glad you both found each other. I am sorry for the things I told you at Christmas. You were right, of course. It is your life and I will keep out of it unless you ask for my help. But know that this makes me feel really happy, love. _

_ About your father, I am not positive he will react well. You know him, you know the way he thinks. He’s always expected you’d marry a girl, have children and that you take care of the Malfoy Manor and I am not sure he realizes that most of the things we thought were certain are not. _

_ Whatever you need, though, I will help you.   _

_ Send my best to Mr Potter. I hope you take care of each other. _

_ Love. _

 

“This is…” started Harry.

“I know.”

“Everything is fine. See?”

He threw his arm around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. Draco was smiling.

“I thought she’d be upset. Maybe try to tell me I could use this to our advantage.” His words were muffled because he had burried his head in the crook of Harry’s neck. The scent  _ there _ that was so Harry, just  _ Harry _ that made him feel lightheaded.

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” Harry murmured in is ear, “we’re fine.” He kissed his neck and Draco just pulled him tighter against him.

 

*

 

“We should have seen this coming,” Hermione declared.

Draco had his head down, looking at the first page of that day’s edition of The Daily Prophet. He could feel Harry rubbing small circles on his neck, trying to draw out the tension there, but failing. He could  _ feel  _ the looks, too; hear the talk.

Draco was surrounded by Gryffindors. And Luna. After glancing at the first page, they had left the Gryffindor table and sat next to Draco and Harry. Even Ginny Weasley. She was looking at him like she wanted to put her hand around his and console him. 

“We did want to come out,” he mumbled.

“Yes, but we were supposed to do this on our own terms. Not like this!” Harry was angry. Really  _ angry _ .

They don’t usually pay attentio to The Daily Prophet, not anymore. But while they were talking over a cup of tea, the students in the Great Hall abruptly stopped their conversations. Looking around, they notice they were staring at them, gaping. Draco was about to say ‘ _ What?’  _ out loud when Harry snatched a copy of The Daily Prophet from a first year. Then the Gryffindors and Luna came over and sat with them.

There, on the front cover, taking most of the page, was a picture of Harry and Draco kissing. 

Draco had chocked and looked at Harry. “How did this happen?!”

Harry just shook his head.

It was worse, though, because that wasn’t the only picture. Inside ( _ More on the subject on page 4, 5 and 6 _ , it read), there were pictures of them holding hands on what they thought was an empty corridor; a picture of Harry leaning into Draco, whispering something in his ear; and one, Harry knew had been taken yesterday, while reading Narcissa’s letter.

In all of them they were close together, touching in some way, and he had no doubt people would know, just by looking at the pictures, what was going on between them.

Draco lifted his head. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We just decided we wanted to a few days ago. It wasn’t supposed…” He paused and shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s okay, mate, we kind of already knew, anyway,” pointed out Neville. Luna was nodding along. 

“It is awful you don’t get to tell people yourselves, though,” offered Ginny.

“Harry, we have to do something!”

“What, Hermione?” Harry’s hand was still on Draco’s back. He should probably do something about that but,  _ why bother anymore _ .

“My father’s going to kill me,” Draco whispered.

Ron, who was siting next to him, just pat his back. “He’s in Azkaban, he’s got no say in this.”

Draco just groaned.

“You think it was the same person that attacked you?” asked Ginny.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I didn’t see anyone yesterday. I mean, in these,” he pointed at the pictures, “I don’t remember seeing anyone around.”

Harry shook his head. “Yeah, me neither.”

Draco cursed. And they all looked at them with sad eyes.

 

*

 

The taunting came later. He knew that no one would be stupid enough to pull anything off at breakfast. There were teachers and he was surrounded by Gryffindors. But he kew that the moment he was alone, there would be poeple coming to pick on him. 

He just didn’t expect it to be Slytherins.

There were four of them, all younger. Probably fourth years, he wasn’t sure. He was leaving class and heading to the Common Room when they approached him.

“So, shagging our Saviour, are you?”

He just rolled his eyes at the girl and tried to get past them.

“You know, I always knew there was something rong with the way you two bickered. Always thought you’d end up killing each other, but look at that,” said a boy, a bit shorter than Draco but bulkier.

“If you could just move out of my way, that’d be great.” He tried to shoulder past them but failed. There were other people around; he recognized two other Slytherins and two Ravenclaws, by the colour of their rober, but none of them were paying attention. They were avoiding looking their way, on purpose. 

Draco got angry. They had been there, at Hogwarts, during the Battle. Even if they hadn’t fought, they  _ knew _ . 

“Would you just move the fuck  _ out  _ of my way?” He could feel the tip of his wand touching his fingers. He didn’t want to use it, though.

One of the other girls laughed. “I don’t think so.”

He sighed. “Look, whatever your problem is, I don’t think it’s wise to piss of an Ex-Death Eater, do you?”

“That a threat?” asked the same boy. The other boy had his arms crossed and was trying to make himself look bigger. Draco thought he just looked pathetic.

“No. But what I know I did learn from The Dark Lord himself.”

The girls exchanged a look, their hands over their wands wavering a bit.

“Right, because you are so  _ evil _ you’d kill all four of us in a corridor.”

“I didn’t say anything about killing you.”

The boy just looked at him.

“Move. And I’ll forget this ever happened. I won’t even tell the Headmistress.”

The quiet boy suddenly pushed the other boy out of the way and pointed his way at his chest. Bedore he could utter a word, Draco had him in a body-binding spell.

He looked at the other three: the girls had moved away from him, looking the boy on the fkloor, fighting against invisible strings; the boy had lowered his wand but didn’t take his off Draco.

“You filthy Death Eater!” he screamed.

“I’m no longer a Death Eater, you little shit! What do you think you’re doing, attacking one of your own? Is this how you want to earn their respect back? Do you think this wasn’t how I acted? Ganging up on people, spitting nonsense, hoping to get in a fight, let go of my anger that way? You’re not fucking  _ special _ ,” he spat at them, “you’re just fucking  _ cowards _ !” He released the boy, writhing on the floor, from the spell. “You have a problem with me dating Harry? Too bad. Fuck off. Slytherins don’t attack one another. We protect one another. You wanna keep being little shits, continue with the idea that we’re bad people and people shouldn’t mess with us? You cut that off,  _ right now _ , or I’ll have you both before the Headmistress  _ and  _ Harry before you can say _Quidditch_.” With that he stormed off, not really caring to pull up a defense charm because he knew they wouldn’t try to hurt him.

 

He entered the Common Room, fuming. He searched Harry in the crowd but couldn’t find him. Seamus and Dean were sitting close in a corner, talking with their heads down. When they saw him, Seamus asked if he was up for a game of chess. He said no and asked for Harry.

“Dunno know, mate. Try his room.”

He climbed the stairs and knocked on his door. There was no answer so he went to his bedroom. 

Harry was lying on his bed.

“Hey,” he said.

“I was just attacked by four Slytherins and I swear I could kill them.”

Harry sat up quickly. “What?! Are you hurt?”

He shook his head and stopped Harry from searching his body for wounds. “No, they tried to gang up on me. On me, Harry. I swear. I expected this from the other Houses,” he shook his head again and looked up, “but Slytherin?”

“But...what happened?”

“They had their wands at me. I don’t know if they were meaning to actually use them. Saying they knew there was something odd about the way we always acted. What the fuck does that even  _ mean _ ?” He let out a breath and let himself be dragged down to bed by Harry. 

“They didn’t touch you, though?”

“No.” 

“You think it was them, last time?”

“Before Christmas?”

“Yes.”

“No. I don’t know what they were trying to pull, but no. The spells they usd on me...that wasn’t anything  fourth year would know, so I don’t think it was them. Beides, they were scared shitless when I left them.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “What did you do?”

“Told them the truth. It’s okay, I didn’t hurt them.”

“Do you wanna go to McGonagall?”

He shook his head. “No. I’d rather not.”

Harry nodded and pulled Draco to him, hands running through his hair, and kissed his head. 

“Did anyone say anything to you, today?”

Harry shook his head. “No. But Hermione and Ron were with me the entire time. Just…”

“What?”

“The looks.”

_ Right _ , Draco thought. He swallowed. “Do you want to, maybe, take some time from, well this? Maybe process everything, see-”

“Are you breaking up with me, Draco Malfoy?” he said, pulling away a little bit to look at him. There was a playful smile on his lips.

Draco couldn’t help but smile a little, too. “Won’t be able to get rid of you anytime soon, will I?”

“Damn right, you’re not.”


End file.
